The Flower That Never Fades
by Kichino Sarafu
Summary: HarryXOC DracoXOC She was a dark girl, who never showed emotion, she's from Slytherin and appears to be a masochist, as well as Harry's stalker. So why can't Harry ignore her?
1. Detention With Amaranta

**A/N: **I know I shouldn't be starting a new story with so many others out, but I've had this idea for a while, and with the new movie coming out, Harry Potter is all I can seem to think about. But don't worry, I've go this one planned out. It'll finish soon.

Each chapter switched between Harry's P.O.V. and Draco's, but its not told in first person.

Disclaimer: All credits go to J.K. Rowling, except for my character.

* * *

**Detention With Amaranta**

Even when Harry first laid eyes upon her, she held no more significance to him than any of the other nameless students in his school. She arrived in his fifth term at Hogwarts as a transfer student. No one had heard anything about her past or where she was from. She began the term same time as the others and underwent the Sorting privately in Dumbledore's office. She had been the topic every one's gossip for a few days before word got around that she had become a Slytherin. He expected her to remain as another annoying snake in his happy school life at Hogwarts, that was, until she walked up to him during breakfast in the second week of the term.

She had been talking with Malfoy when Harry accompanied by Hermoine and Ron, entered the Great Hall and sat down at the Gryffindor table. She stood up the moment spotted them in the middle of Draco Malfoy's sentence. The whole Slytherin table stared at her curiously as she walked away from them. Their stunned silence spread like a contagious disease across the Great Hall as this strange girl made her way to where Harry was sitting, her long black robes billowing in her confident stride.

All of the Great Hall had become hushed now, some with eager looks of anticipation, some with horror and disgust, others glaring vehemntly at the trespasser. Harry followed everyone's gawking stares to the girl standing patiently behind him. She was rather thin, her small frame looked as if it would crumble if you breathed too hard. Her long, waist-length hair looked as if it may have once been a luminescent blonde, but had been darkened to a dark, almost black, brown. Her skin was so pale it looked as if it had never seen sunlight. Her sunken eyes, however, were a defiant green. Although the rest of hr body appeared to be withered and neglected, her eyes were sharp and bright, taking in as much light as they could gather.

"You are Harry Potter, I presume?" her voice was as small and fragile as she was, however it was constant and never wavered.

Harry looked at her as if she was stupid. He had come to expect by now that everyone in the world knew who he was. The scar on his forehead betrayed him. However, since she didn't appear to have any sign of continuing the conversation without his confirmation he nodded.

"My name is Amaranta," she gave a slight bow, though it was not at all mocking. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I hope we can get along well in the future."

With that, she walked briskly away from thetable and resumed her post by the stunned Malfoy's side. After a few moments of silence as she began to courteously eat her breakfast of strawberry waffles in silence. Then the Great Hall erupted into a flurry of talk, most not happy about the meeting. Amaranta had broken an unspoken rule, a taboo. It was widely known that in no way are Slytherins to befriend anyone else, especialy someone from Gryffindor, other than Slytherins. The Slytherins, more than anyone, reacted with utmost malevolence. All of the table, excluding Malfoy and his two goonies, turned away from her and immeadiatly began to make open snide remarks about her behavior. She had just blown any and all chances of making any friends at all. Besides Malfoy, that is.

Each time Harry saw her, she was accompanied by Malfoy with his lackies, Crabbe and Goyle, trailing obediently behind. Harry had no idea what their relationship was, but they had not just met. In fact, Malfoy seemed to be on "rather good terms" with her, as Hermoine put it, when they talked in low whispers in History of Magic class.

"I overheard them talking in the hallway," Hermoine whispered to them, attempting to pay attention, as well as reveal her findings to her friends. "Malfoy kept saying that she could 'redeem herself.' I think he's trying to persuade her to recuperate from that..._mistake_ she made. He seems down-right desperate to make her life here a happy one."

"They do seem awfully close," Ron admitted as he pretending to be taking notes. "Don't reckon they're related, do you?"

"I don't know," Harry whispered amongst them. "But she must be important if Malfoy's pampering her. Especially after _that _introduction_."_

He saw her again, when he entered Proffesor Snape's dungeon for Potions class. She, as expected was sitting next to Malfoy, but the moment she saw him, she moved her seat to sit next to Harry. It appeared very clear to Harry, that whatever Amaranta's business with him was, it weighed more valuable than popularity in her eyes. She seemed unconcerned about Pansy Parkinson's obnoxiously loud grunt of disgust. Other Slytherins, including Draco, opened their mouth to usher some sort of protest to her act of familiarity with a Harry, but at that moment Proffesor Snape walked into the dungeon, closing the metal door with a loud clank.

"Settle down," he routinely told the class, although his mere prescence forced silence upon the children. After he had gotten to his desk, he looked down at Amaranta, who looked indifferently back at him.

"Yes, the transfer student," he observed her cool countenance. "Seems Potter has attracted another strange one. Well, I do suppose birds of a feather flock together."

Amaranta seemed unaffected by Snape's rude coments. In fact, it almost seemed as if she were never more at home. She nodded politely, and waited for him to give instructions to the class.

"Today we'll be making a Strengthening Solution," Snape addressed the class. "As before, the directions will be on the board-" he flicked his wand on the blackboard behind him and all various amount of instructions appeared "-and the ingredients in the cupboard." He pointed his wand to the cupboard full of jars and herbs, which flung open. "You may begin."

Harry was surprised to find someone worse at Potions than he was. Amaranta had not only grabbed some of the wrong ingredients, but she didn't seem to be doing anything on the instructions at all. Her cauldron was sizzling dangerously with a crimson liquid, rather than the clear turqouise color of Hermoine's.

Proffesor Snape loomed over her cauldron, a look of scorn and disgust written plainly on his face. "Amaranta, what school did you attend to before transferring here?"

"I didn't attend school, sir," she replied. This received an uproar of gasps and whispers.

"You mean to say that you have absolutely no experience in magic before arriving here?"

"No, not neccessarily, sir. I was home-schooled."

"By whom? Your parents?"

"You could say that."

* * *

After Snape's public interrogation of Amaranta in Potions class, Slytherins across the school began to regard her as some muggle-worthy witch who didn't know the slightest in magic. They'd shoot jinxes and hexes at her across the crowded corridors in attempts to catch her unawares. On the contrary, however, defense magic seemed to be the only thing she knew. She easily deflected their attacks and sometimes used the Shield Charm to send it right back at them. Each time Harry witnessed these attacks, he never once saw her utter the incantations.

Rain pelted the windows relentlessly, as Harry opened the door to his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. Thanks to his new teacher, Proffesor Umbridge, he came to detest his once favorite class. The toad-like woman was as tall standing up as she was sitting down, so when she sat down into her chair, there didn't appear to be much of a difference. She was wearing her favorite pink cardigan with a pink bowtie in her hair that oddly reminded Harry of a fly. She smiled venomously as he took his seat next to Hermoine and Ron. Unsurpisingly enough, he saw Amaranta sitting next to Hermoine.

"Wands away, please," Proffesor Umbridge croaked in her girlish voice.

Most students hadn't even bothered to take their wands out, knowing Umbridge's new policy of "safe and Ministry-approved methods and theories" they were now beginning to study.

"Take out _Defensive Magical Theory _by Wilbert Slinkhard and turn to Chapter two," Proffesor Umbridge leered at them sweetly. "There'll be no need to talk."

Everyone did as they were told, and Harry already found himself nodding on the first page. However, his day dreams were interrupted by Amaranta talking aloud to Hermoine, not even bothering to lower her voice.

"Is this how your school prepares itself for defense when you reach the outside world?" she asked the stunned Hermoine. "Seems rather foolish if you ask me. There's no point in _reading_ about them if your body doesn't remember how to do-"

"_Excuse me!_" Proffesor Umbridge yelled, while still keeping her venomously sweet voice. "Did you not here me win I said 'There'll be no need to talk?'"

"Oh, yes, I heard you perfectly well," Amaranta replied innocently.

"Then do the assignment quietly," Umbridge glared at the girl, her smile contorted.

"I would, but I have a problem with your teaching methods and unless these concerns are quieted, I'm afraid I will be unable to concentrate." Her face looked completely serious and indifferent. She didn't appear to be trying to provoke Umbridge.

Harry groaned mentally. This poor girl had no idea of the fury she was about to unleash. Though just seeing Umbridge's twitchiong face of rage was enough.

"Well, I'm afraid it will be _I_ who decides what the lessons are, and the Ministry as well, so just sit return to your assignment," Umbridge growled.

"Then maybe that's the problem here," Amaranta thought aloud, tapping her chin calmly in thought. "I truly do not understand how diving these childrens' noses into books instead of practicing the spells will help them. Maybe someone else should-"

"What is your name?" Umbridge stood up, but her words remained sweet.

"Amaranta, Proffesor," the girl gazed up unblinkingly at her.

"What about your last name?"

"Don't have one. I was only given one, so, logically, its my first...and last, if you think about it."

"Well, then, _Miss Amaranta_, you'll be joining Mr. Potter over here for detention all week!"

Excuse me, but what's 'detention'?" Amaranta cocked her head curiously. "I've never heard of that word before."

Umbridge slammed her clamly hands on the desk, in front of Amaranta, her rosy face just inches from Amranta's pale, calm one. "You think you're smart, don't you?" she rasped to her, so that only Amaranta and Hermoine could hear. "Meet me in my office at five o'clock this evening! I'll _teach_ you what detention is!"

"Yes, ma'am," Amranta nodded, her face calm and indifferent.

The class gazed wonderously at Amaranta. Even after earning a detention, she still remained as cool and collected as before.

* * *

Only a few minutes after he entered Proffesor Umbridge's office did Amaranta enter immeadiatly afterwards. Harry was beginning to wonder if this girl was stalking him or something. Harry had known this office for years, because of its previous inhabitants, but it seemed that Dolores Umbridge's prescence destroyed everything. Lacy covers and doilies littered the furniture, and several vases full of fake flowers occupied the room. She even had a collection of decoratice plates with kittens on the wall. It gave Harry a distinctive plastic feeling, but the moment Amaranta walked in, it seemed that reality walked in with her. Her bleek prescence, made the flowers look a little more realistic, and the kittens began to play with a ball of yarn, and the lacy covers only looked like tablecloths.

"Good evening, Miss Amaranta, Mr. Potter," Umbridge spoke in a disgustingly sugary voice when she noticed them.

"Evening," he replied, but Amaranta remained silent.

"Well, sit down," she gestured to a small table covered in lace with two straight-backed chairs. Two blank pieces of parchment lay on the table, eagerly awaiting the teens.

"Er," Harry began. "Proffesor Umbridge? Before we start, I er..w-wanted to ask you a...favor."

She glared at him. "Oh?"

"Well, you see...I'm on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And I was supposed to be at the tryouts for the new keeper at five o'clock on Friday, and I was wondering whether I could skip detention that night and...do it another night...instead."

He already knew before he even uttered those words he was wasting his breath.

"Oh, no, no, no, no!" This is your punishment for spreading evil, attention-seeking rumors, and punishments cannot be adjust to suit the guilty one's convenience. No, you will come five o'clock on Friday, as well. I think you missing something you really want to do ought to reinforce the lesson I'm trying to teach you." She smiled so widely as if she had just eaten a sweet treat.

Amaranta stared at Harry as he looked like he was going to pop a blood vessel. "Proffesor," she interrupted just as he looked lik he was about to snap. "Our punishment...?

"Oh, yes, yes, sit down" she gestured towards the chairs and Amaranta calmly took her seat.

Harry looked at her, dumbfounded. Did she _want_ to do the punishment? But her awkward ways caused him to forget about his anger, saving him a longer detention.

"Now, you two are going to be doing some lines for me. No, not with your quill. You're going to use a rather special one of mine." She handed them each a slender black quill that looked as if it served as a weapon as well as a writing utensil. "Now, Harry, I want you to write '_I must not tell lies,'" _she nearly giggled the words.

"How many times?" He looked curiously at her.

"Oh, however long it takes for the words to _sink in_."

He didn't like the way she emphasized on those last words.

"And Miss Amaranta, I want you to write '_I must not interrupt the teacher._' Same applies to you."

"But, proffesor," Harry looked up at her curiously. "You haven't given me any ink."

"Oh, you won't be needing ink!" it was obvious she was trying to suppress a snort. It made her look even uglier than before, if that was possible.

Harry tried his best not to look at the frustrating woman and he wrote: _I must not tell lies._ He couldn't help but usher a little cry of pain. On the parchment was the sentence in red ink, but they also appeared on the back of his hand, cut as if with a knife. And even as he stared at the cut, it healed over again, automatically, leaving his hand as it was before, but a little ruddy.

Amaranta, he presumed from looking up at the blood on her hand, had discovered the true punishment as well. However, she appeared totally unaffected. In fact, she was writing even faster than before. Harry could only shudder when he thought he saw a smirk on her face.

Before he knew it, Dolores said, "Come here," and he gratefully stopped writing, although he never showed it on his face. He couldn't let her see any weakness. Amaranta stopped as well. Since she hadn't specifically given the order to anyone in particular, she walked up to the desk too. "Give me your hands, both of you." We each out our hands up to her, palms down. She examined them closely. Even though the cuts had healed, the hands were still red, and Amaranta's was even redder than mine.

"It seems I haven't made much of an impression," she sighed. "Well, we'll just have to rectify that tomorrow evening, now, won't we? You may go."

Harry left her office without another word. Amaranta followed him silently. When he was almost sure she would follow him all the way to the Gryffindor Common room, she said, "I'm sorry."

He turned around to give her a peculiar look. "What for?"

"If I knew any healing arts, I'd help to relieve the pain, but I don't. I only know dark magic, so I'm sorry."

She bowed, and without another word, left for the stairs, leaving him staring dumbfoundedly at her shadow.


	2. A Day With Amaranta

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait. I was visiting family in Oklahoma for a week without a computer. Well, this chapter is in Draco's P.O.V. P.S. Thanks for all the support! I love you guys: )

**A Day With Amaranta**

What could that girl be thinking?! He told her specifically people to befriend, and Harry Potter _definitely_ wasn't on that list! Draco Malfoy sat impatient, on one of the many couches in the Slytherin common chamber. The dungeon that he now occupied was very suiting to his character. Dark, damp, and with an eerie glow. Crabbe and Goyle, his two loyal lackies, stood behind him, waiting for orders. His arms drapped lazily over the back of the couch, his legs crossed and his foot twitching madly. Every five seconds, he smoothed his bleach blonde hair back, although it had already become trained by now to remain in that position.

Where was that confounded woman? If Proffesor Umbridge was making her stay, even this late, he'd have to have a little chat with her. His father was a very _genorous_ friend of the Ministry, and Dolores would definitely warm up to him.

He watched as the dungeon chamber slowly thinned, everyone returning to their beds, awaiting the next day of school. It was at times like this that he could let his guard down and his mind wander.

He remembered the first time he laid eyes on Amaranta. His father had brought her home, saying she'd be staying there until her guardian came to retrieve her. They were both five at that time, and her hair was a little lighter back then. Maybe when she was born, her hair had been a bright blonde, as his had been, but it was obvious she had been neglected of sunlight for lengthy periods of time. Was that why he had this strange infatuation with her? Surely not. Even when children, her company hadn't been all too pleasant. He never once saw her smile, or show any sign of pleasure in the least bit. Was that because her father was-

He shook his head, but then smoothed his hair back, but even with the sudden movement, his hair hadn't budged an inch. The grande grandfather clock in the corner struck nine. If she didn't get back soon, Filch just might nab her.

Their relationship could be labled as childhood friends, he thought. She had made visits over the years to his house. Because of this, Draco had begun to infer that she must be someone important, but even while she was there, his father never treated her any better than one of the house elves. She couldn't have been a filthy mud-blood, no, his father would never allow such a creature into their home. Then why?

Even over the summer, before this term, when he had asked him if he could take Amaranta as his wife, his father replied, "_Don't get too attached to that girl._" What could his father have meant by that? Amaranta would be a perfect specimen to continue the Malfoy lineage.

He heard a creak and felt one of Goyle's stubby fingers tap his shoulder. Speak of the devil. Amaranta walked into the dungeon, her face as blank and cold as before. So cold it sent shivers down Draco's spine. Was that what attracted him to her?

"Where have you been?" He asked, although he fully knew the answer.

"In Proffesor Umbridge's office," she replied apathetically. "I now know what detention means."

He raised an eyebrow at that last comment, but decided it best not to inquire further. "What did Umbridge make you do?"

"Lines."

"Really? That's all?"

"There was a catch."

"Hum?"

She didn't speak, but showed him the back of her hand. His face began to contort into a dark shape as he could trace words etched into her skin with his thumb. _I must not interrupt the teacher._ That old hag! If she wasn't on his side, he'd- No matter. "I'll speak with Dolores tomorrow. We'll see about your detention."

"Don't trouble yourself," she replied, her face blank, but serious. "I wish to remain in these 'detentions.'"

He gaped up at her. "But, why-?"

"It's for my mission."

"The one you can't tell me about?"

She nodded.

Draco sighed. She was beginning to use this as her excuse for everything. He wanted to protect her, but this girl was so stubborn, that no matter what he did, he couldn't dissuade her. "Fine then, go to bed and get some rest." He reluctantly let go of her hand as she walked into the Girl's dormitories, instantly wanting to feel that heat in his hands once again. No matter. He had the majority of tomorrow with her. He could work on saving her school life then.

* * *

"Hey, Amaranta, you want to watch the Gryffindor losers practice Quidditch?" Malfoy proposed to Amaranta who was doing her homework quietly in the library. With how far she was behind, she needed all the help she could get.

She stared up at him blankly. "What's Quidditch?"

"Man, you really did live a sheltered life," he sighed. "No matter. It'll be fun even if you don't know the game. Making fun of Gryffindor never gets old! Besides, they've got _Weasley_ as their new Keeper! Ha! This year's going to be a shoo-in for the Slytherin team!"

Amaranta curled her finger and put it to her lips as she always did when she was thinking deep about something. Malfoy couldn't fend off the heat in his cheeks everytime he saw her finger push her lips open. But she soon let her hand fall to her sides and her mouth remain closed. "Ok."

Draco smirked when he saw Amaranta gazing mystically at the eminse stadium that served as the site for their Quidditch games. He could pretty much guess that she'd never even seen a stadium before. The flags bearing the House colors billowed in the strong wind. It had been rainy these past few days. Although no water dropped upon their heads, heavy clouds threatened them in the sky.

They took their place amongst an early group of Slytherins, who greeted him warmly, but ignored Amaranta. He recognized most of them as his Quidditch team, along with close friends. One of them handed him a box of All-Flavor jelly beans, which he took gratefully, a maniacal plot forming in his mind. As he sat down on the cold, metal bleachers, he handed a brown jelly bean to Amaranta. Dirt flavored. "Take it. It's a treat."

Amaranta examined it closely before popping it into her mouth. He didn't know he could ever see her grow even paler than she already was. Her brows furrowed, and she reluctantly swallowed. "You actually _enjoy_ eating those things?"

Malfoy couldn't suppress a grin. This was the first time she had used sarcasm around him. He was glad she was opening up to him a bit. He turned his head back to the field when he heard mocking cheers. Show time.

"What's that Weasley's riding?" He called out over the evil laughs. "Why would anyone put a Flying Charm on a moldy old log like that?"

Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy shrieked with laughter. Even from here, Malfoy could seee the redhead's freckled face match a similar shade of red. He grinned broadly. This was what he lived for.

"Hey, Johnson, what's with that hairstyle anyway?" Parkinson giggled loudly, for all to hear. "Why would anyone want to look like they've got worms coming out of their head?"

The Gryffindor Quidditch team ignored them, well, except for Ron. He appeared to be having a little trouble concentrating as the team began passing a Quaffle to each other.

"Hey, Potter, how's your scar feeling?" Malfoy called loudly. "Sure you don't need to lie down? It must be, what, a whole week since you were in the hospital wing? That's a record for you, isn't it?"

That last joke received massive hoots and howls from the gang of Slytherins. Malfoy beamed proudly, and glanced at Amaranta. She wasn't laughing, or even smiling, but she didn't appear angry that he had made a stab at Harry. In fact, she looked like she didn't care at all. Well, at least his fears that she had some weird feelings towards the Potter boy weren't true. He knew her longer than Harry, anywho. If anyone could get Amaranta to open up, ut would be him.

"Gryffindor are losers!" Someone began from within the crowd, and soon the crowd followed, until the entire Slytherin group, excluding Amaranta, were chanting, "Gryffindor are losers! Gryffindor are losers!"

Soon, the Quidditch practice was over, and the Slytherin group began to thin. Draco was about to leave along with them, when he saw Amaranta routed firmly to her seat. Crabbe and Goyle looked at him curiously and he dismissed them with a wave of his hand. They shrugged their shoulders, already used to him seeking Amaranta's company, and left.

Now it was just the two of them.

"Amaranta?"

"I've never flown before," she answered his voiceless question. "I've always been rooted to the ground. I wonder what it feels like..."

"If you want," Draco scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, "I could take you on a ride. On my broom, I mean."

Amaranta gazed up at him, although her face was expressionless, her eyes glittered with hope. There was no way he could resist those eyes. Wishing he hadn't sent his lackies away, he quickly performed a spell to summon his broom, hoping he didn't break anything along the way. Soon, he had his Firebolt in his hands.

"Just to be safe," he glanced up at her, trying to act nonchalant, "you should ride with me. Since you're a beginner, it'd be best if you had a skilled rider along with you."

She nodded, seeing all reason in this. Malfoy swung his leg over the end of his broom, and then gestured for her to do the same behind him. "Wrap your arms around me," he ordered, not looking back in case his face betrayed his true motives. "We wouldn't want you to fall off, now would we?"

She nodded, wrapping her skinny arms around his chest. Oh, how good it felt! He could feel the heat from her body against his back through-out the entire flight, and he thought he even caught a small smile when he glanced over his shoulder once, but if it had been there, it quickly disappeared.

* * *

That morning, at the Great Hall, Malfoy sat down to breakfast with Amaranta, Crabbe and Goyle sitting across from them. Now that Malfoy had turned all of his attention to Amaranta, they remained silent, since everytime they gave their two cents, they were sharply repreminded. "Hey, Amaranta, look," he nudged her as she took a bite out of sugared French toast. "My father's in the _Daily Prophet_." It was obvious to any outsider that Draco spent most of his energy trying to impress the girl, but she appeared unaware of his intentions. He should her the section with the headline:

**MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM**

**DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER "HIGH INQUISITOR"**

"'High Inquisitor?'" She looked at me closely.

"Yes, Fudge has passed a law saying that the Ministry can now appoint someone to investigate Hogwarts and its teachers. She has full rights to get rid of anyone she wants! And because my dad's on such good terms with her, that means a little word from me and she can bag any teacher I see fit. So if there's someone you don't like, tell me, and I'll get rid of them!"

"Hmm..." Amaranta scanned the paper. "Right now, Umbridge seems unsatisfatory as a teacher, but as an asset, she might be useful. I doubt she would give up her teaching position, so it would be best to befriend her since she is rising into power. And this Cornelius Fudge seems to be more of a dictator than a minister. You say you have good connections with these people?"

"You bet," Draco couldn't help but gloat.

"The right connections can save you in the future," she remarked, and this time he could almost hint a bit of acid in her voice. "It seems your father knows what he's doing."

At that moment, he instantly regeretted showing her the paper. He hadn't ever taken into consideration her feelings towards his father. He treated her like a slave, after all. It was no wonder she'd loathe his old man.

He hoped that Potions Class would act as a distraction for his previous mistake, but Amaranta resumed her post by Harry, ignoring Malfoy completely. He couldn't deny that the previous incident might have caused this as well as her "mission."

Snape passed out everyone's moonstone essay from the previous class, and a wave of whispers and moans echoed through the dungeon. "I have awarded you the grades you would have received if you presented this owkr in your O.W.L.," said the Proffesor curtly. "This should give you a realistic idea of what to expect in your examination. The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would've failed, had this been your exam. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week's essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions to those dunces who got D's."

"Some people got _D's_?" Malfoy jeered.

When the class was over, Malfoy immeadiately made his way to Amaranta as the class began filing out of the dungeon, ready to get back to their rooms. Amaranta finished packing her bags, ad quietly walked out of the door.

"So, what'd you get on yur essay?" he asked her eager for conversation to repatch their friendship.

"D."

"Ah, well, before, I-"

"You were right to scoff. It is an unstatisfactory score. I must stress more output in my work. Now, if you need me, I'll be in the library, studying. Please do not disturb me, unless it is direly urgent."

She walked away coolly and then Draco knew it would be hard to make up with her.


	3. Comrades With Amaranta

**A/N: **I seem to be in a Harry Potter mood lately, so the other stories are coming along slowly. But, at least you've got this!

**Comrades With Amaranta**

It seemed like today would be another uneventful day in Defense Against The Dark Arts class, but today was no exception. No one even bothered to take out their wands anymore, so no one budged when Proffesor Umbridge said, "Wands away." They even already had their copies of _Defensive Magical Theory_ out on their desks. "Since we finished chapter one last lesson, I would like for you all to turn to page nineteen and proceed onto chapter two, 'Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation.' There will be no need to talk."

Harry even saw a few kids mouth these words as they came out of Umbridge's wide mouth. He could only feel sympathy for his fellow classmates. Everyone fell into their drone state as they began to scribble on pieces of parchment, and Amaranta, as he noticed from a glance, was doodling and hadn't even bothered to open the book. He found her drawings very disturbing however, with squiggly figures beating and stepping on one poor, small squiggly. This girl was seriously messed up. However, in gaping at Amaranta he had noticed that hermoine had her hand up.

Proffesor Umbridge had seen it as well, and instead of addressing her in front of the whole class, she scrabbled over to her, faceing the confident girl, and rasped, "What is it, Miss Granger?"

"I've already read chapter two," she answered, not bothering to keep her voice down as Umbridge was doing.

"Then read chapter three."

"I've read that also. I've read the whole book."

Dolores stared at her, dumbfounded, before she straightened he back, which wasn't much of a difference with her height, and demanded, "Well, then, you should be able to tell me what Slinkhar says on counterjinxes in chapter fifteen."

"He says that counterjinxes are improperly named," Hermoine replied coolly. "He says that 'counterjinx' is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable."

Umbridge's eyebrows shot up, and she couldn't deny she was impressed. Hermoine really knew her stuff.

"But I disagree," continued Hermoine.

"You disagree?"

"Yes, Mr. Slinkhard doesn't like jinxes, but I think they can be very useful when they're used defensively."

"Oh, you do now?" Proffesor Umbridge replied sugarly. "Well, I'm afraid it is Mr. Slinkhard's opinion and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger."

"But-"

"That is enough," Proffesor Umbridge cut her off. She returned to her flowery desk, her sweet mask removed. "Miss Granger, I am going to take five points from Gryffindor House."

The class revolted in a series of indignant shouts and yells.

"What for?" Harry demanded angrily.

"Don't you get involved!" Hermoine whispered.

"For disrupting my class with senseless interruptions," Professor Umbridge replied smoothly. "I am here to teach you children Ministry-approved methods, and that doesn't require students' opinions on a matter in which they understand little of. Your previous teachers may have allowed such foolery, but as none of them-with the exception of Proffesor Quirrell, who restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects-would have passed a Ministry inspection-"

"Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher," Harry couldn't restrain his sarcasm. "There was just that little drawback of him having Lord Voldermort sticking out of the back of his head!"

The classroom fell silent after that, for what felt like an eternity to him. He wanted to say he regreted his actions, but that wouldn't be entirely true.

"I think another week's detention will help your character, Mr. Potter," Proffesor Umbridge replied smoothly.

However, her snide smirk was lost when Amaranta suddenly shot out of her chair and declared loudly, with the greatest poker face Harry had ever seen, "Proffesor Umbride, you are unpleasant to look at, resemble some unsightly creature, and you smell as pretty as you look."

This silence was even more heavy than Harry's before it was lightened by a series of restrained giggles. Dolores looked positively flabbergasted. "_Miss Amaranta, did you just insult me?_" she gasped in one breath.

"Yes, Proffesor, I did," Amaranta replied coolly, no emotion betraying her.

"Well, since you appear to enjoy detentions, you can join Mr. Potter!"

Before anyone knew it, class was over and everyone eagerly hurried out of the classroom, though many stole glances to Amaranta who calmly packed her bags. It seemed to Harry as if she _wanted_ to be in detention with him.

As she walked out of the classroom, Harry paced quickly to catch up to her. "Hey, Amaranta, why-why did you purposefully get yourself into trouble?"

She stopped, and turned to him in the crowded hallway, stunning Harry with a soft and awkward smile. On her, it looked out of place, but it also seemed so refreshing compared to her unemotional stare. "I needed to vent some stress on that woman."

* * *

That evening, Harry and Amaranta wet through the usual detention. Amaranta did not furiously write the words as she had done before. She had an almost lifeless look to her. If she was so tired why had she landed herself in detention with him?

As they exited Proffesor Umbridge's office, Harry stared at the back of his hand. The cut had just barely healed over, and it was as red as a strawberry by now. Before he coud finish his self-pitying examination, he felt Amaranta's hand clasped around his, in a sort of up raised handshake. She looked at him with a face full of nothing but seriousness and whispered, as if in a dire secret, "We are Detention Comrades!"

He couldn't help it. She had said such a cheesy line with such seriousness, he didn't even care if Proffesor Umbridge heard him guffawing loudly. In fact, he'd prefer it if she heard, that'd set her right! Amaranta looked confused to what was so amusing about the matter. She had attempted a pact that went deeper than blood and got laughed in the face. Harry held his sides with one arm, and the other held himself up on her shoulder.

When he'd finally settled down, he wiped his tears. "Wow, thanks, Amaranta, I needed that. I've just been so wound up lately, it seems I've forgotten how to laugh. Yes, yes, Detention Comrades. At this rate, we'll spend every night together! Even if it is in silence most of the time."

At this, Amaranta flashed him a smile, but it was nothing like the one before, which appeared very stressed. This one seemed more natural, and from the heart. Though, once she realized it was there, she quickly hid it with a thin line for a mouth.

Maybe it was because that smile was such a rarity that Harry found himself thinking about it through out the next day. Even when he returned to the Gryffindor common room to talk to Hermoine and Ron, his only thought was her smile. Detention Comrades, huh?

"Harry, are you listening to me?" Hermoine brought him back down to Earth.

"Huh? No, what were you saying?"

"I was _saying_ that we should learn Defense Against the Dark Arts ourselves."

"What?" Ron groaned. "You want us to do extra work? We're behind on homework as it is! I've got extra Quidditch practices and Harry's been stuck in Umbridge's detentions! It's only the second week, for goblin's sake!"

"But this is more important than homework!" Hermoine pleaded.

The boy stared at her as if she had just sprouted another head.

"I didn't think _anything_ was more important than homework!" Ron exclaimed.

"Don't be silly, of course there is!" Hermoine rolled her eyes. Harry began to see a certain glint in her eye that usually ended in her rambling on for hours. "It's about preparing ourselves, like Harry said, for what's out there! It's about making sure we can defend ourselves!If we don't learn anything for a year-"

"It's not like we can do much ourselves," Ron argued. "I mean, sure, we can look jinxes up in the library and all, but-"

"No, I think we're past the point of just learning jinxes," said Hermoine. "We need a proper teacher who can actually _show_ us the spells, instead of having us learn them from text."

"If you're talking about Lupin..." Harry began.

"No, no," Hermoine shook her head. "He's to busy with the order, anyway. The most we could see him is on weekends anyway, and that's not nearly enough."

"Who then?"

Hermoine let out an exaggerated sigh. "I'm talking about _you_, Harry."

"About me what?" Harry said after a long silence.

"I'm talking about you teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts!"

Harry gazed at Hermoine with that look again. He turned to Ron, hoping for a stunned look from Ron, they usually shared when Hermoine presented one of her engenius plans. Ron didn't look stunned. He appeared to be thinking, a deep set frown on his face. "That's an idea."

"What's an idea?" Harry said.

"You," Ron reiterated. "Teaching us."

"But...I'm not a teacher, I can't-"

"Harry, you're the best in the year at Defense Against the Dark Arts," Hermoine told him.

"Me?" Harry replied. "No, i'm not, you've beaten me in every test-"

"Actually, I haven't," Hermoine tried her best to remain cool, but Harry saw an indignant spark in her eye. "You beat me in our third year. But test results don't matter! It's what you've _done _that matters! You've faced You-Know-Who many times, you killed the Basilisk in our second year, you've fended off god knows how many dementors-"

"But that was all luck!" Harry cried.

The two exchanged grins, and Harry was seriously going to break someone's head off if they didn't listen to him.

* * *

"So who did you say is supposed to be meeting us?" Harry asked Hermoine, leaning back in his chair at the round table in the shady looking bar called the Hog's Head. Why anyone would name a pub that, he didn't know. There were only a few shady characters in the pub, and a shifty-eyed bartender who glared at them occaisionally.

"Just a couple of people," Hermoine checked her watch. "They should be here around now, this is when-Oh, that must be them!"

The door of the pub swung open and a small crowd of people reluctantly walked in. First came Neville, then Dean and Lavender, who were closely followed by Parvati anda Padma Patil with (Harry couldn't help but smile broadly) Cho Chang and one of her giggly girlfriends, and then Luna Lovegood in a dreamy stupor, then, not much to Harry's surprise, Amaranta, her dark prescence very fitting for such a bar, and after that followed Johnson, Colin Creevey, Ernie Macmillan, Justin Finch-Fletchy, Hannah Abbot, Ginny and some blonde boy Harry recognized to be on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, Fred and George Weasley, with their pal, Lee Jordan, and a few of others he didn't recognize.

"A _couple _of people?" He shot Hermoine a nasty look. "A _couple?_"

"Well, the idea seemed quite popular," Hermoine averted his gaze. "Ron, would you pull up some more chairs, please?"

Fred walked up to the bartender and said," Hi, could we have...twenty-six butterbeers, please?"

The bartender glared at him, and then threw the dusty rag he wa using to wipe a glass until it only got filthier. He continued to pass up dusty mugs of butterbeers.

"Cough up, everyone," Fred turned to the crowd. "I don't have enough gold for all of these."

While everyone proceeded to scower their robes for coins, Harry turned on Hermoine. "What have you been telling these people?" he whispered hoarsely.

"They just want to hear what you've got to say," she replied, but as Harry continued to glare at her, she added, "Don't worry, I'll speak to them first."

Neville waved at Harry, but he couldn't even smile back. His throat felt dry as he watched Cho talk animatedly wih her strawberry-blonde friend, who only scowled. She obviously didn't want to be here. Harry also caught Amaranta eyeing Cho, but her face was blank and unemotional as ever, but he couldn't deny something else. She looked almost...calculating? He supposed she always looked like that, but today seemed to be menacing. As if she were plotting Cho's destruction. Harry gave a shudder at the thought. How could he ever find himself dazed at _that_ girl's smile. Cho was so much easier to look at.

Everyone began to look at Harry expectantly. When it was Hermoine, instead who spoke up, they all turned their attention towards her. "Uh...erm...Hi. Well, y-you all know why you're here. Uhm..well, Harry had the idea-" He shot her a nasty glare. "I mean, I had the i-idea that it might be good of people want to really study Defense Against the Dark Arts-I mean _really_ study it, not that rubbish Umbridge is making us read," she seemed to gain more confidence as the group gave their agreement to that last statement. "And...well, I thought it'd be good if we took matters into our own hands. And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, through practice, not theory-"

"You want to pass your Defense Against The Dark Arts O.W.L., too, I bet?" Michael Corner interjected.

"Of course, I do," Hermoine snapped. "But more than that...I want to know how to properly defend myself, b-because...because..." She took a deep breath and finished. "Because Lord Voldermort is back."

After that, the conversation began to go downhill. Everyone, not surprisingy excluding Amaranta, gasped and recoiled at the name. A few of the girls, including Cho's friend shrieked. The conversation took a drastic turn. Now people were wanting proof. Hermoine tried desperately to salvage the conversation, but it was already lost. Harry had to speak up, now, whether he liked it or not.

"What makes me say You-Know-Who's back?" he repeated. "I saw him. But Dumbledore told everyone what happened last year, and if you don't believe him, you don't believe me, and I'm not wasting my afternoon trying to convince anyone."

Zacharias said, "All Dumbledore told us last year was that Cedric Diggory got killed by You-Know-Who and that you brought his body back t Hogwarts. He didn't give us any details. He didn't tell us exactly how Diggory got murdered, and I think we'd all like to know-"

"If you've come to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldermort kills someone, I can't help you," Harry said, his temper rising. "I don't want to talk about Cedric Diggory, all right? So if that's what you're here for, then you might as well leave now."

But none of them moved.

"So...so it's like I was saying," Hermoine continued. "If you'd like to learn some defense-"

"Is it true that you can produce a Patronus?" a girl with a long plait down her back interrupted.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

"A corporeal Patronus?"

"Yeah. . ."

"Is it really true? You make a stag Patronus?"

"Yes. . ."

"Blimey, Harry!" Lee exclaimed. "I never knew that!"

"And did you kill the Basilisk with that swordi n Dumbledore's office?" demanded Terry Boot. "That's what one of the portraits told me. . ."

"Er-yeah, I did," Harry answered, a fluttering feeling rising in his stomach, but that was nothing compared to when Cho spoke up.

"And that's not to mention all the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year-getting past dragons and merpeople and acromantulas and things. . ."

Everyone whispered, impressed.

"Look," he sighed, although flattered by Cho thinking he was so great. "I'm not trying to be modest or anything, but I had a lot of help with that stuff. . ."

"Not with the dragon, you didn't," Michael Corner said at once. "That was some awesome flying!"

"Yeah, well-"

"Yes, well," said Hermoine hastily, "moving on, the point is, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?"

Everyone murmured in agreement.

"Well," Hermoine said, looking relieved. "The next question is how often we do it. I really don't think there's any point in meeting less than once a week-"

"Hang on," Angelina put her hand up. "We need to make surethis doesn't clash with our Quidditch practice."

"Nor ours," Cho stuck in.

"Nor ours," Zacharias Smith added.

After much argueing and planning everyone finally came to an agreement, but then came the need for a place for the meeting. This one was much harder to figure out than the timing. It had to be some place hidden, so that they weren't caught. Finally, they decided to figure it out later and Hermoine rummaged a long piece of parchment out of her bag, along with a quill and ink.

"I think everyone should write their name down," Hermoine said. "But I also think we all shouldn't go shouting what we're doing here. So if you sign, you're agreeing to not tell Umbridge, or anybody else."

Fred and George eagerly put their names down, along with Amaranta, but everyone else seemed less keen on signing.

"I-well, we're _prefects_," Ernie burst out. "And if this list was found...I mean-"

"Ernie, do you really think I'd leave that list lying around?" Hermoine sighed.

"No, no, of course not," Ernie said, looking slightly less anxious. "I-yes, of course I'll sign."

Nobody objected after Ernie, each one putting their signature down, even including Cho's blonde friend, though not without a nasty glare to Harry. Everyone filed out, except for Amaranta, who lingered. She opened her mouth, looking as if she wanted to say something, but then closed it and walked dejectedly out of the pub.


	4. Fighting With Amaranta

**A/N: **I've got a special double chater release for you! applause Along with a picture of Amaranta I drew!

**Fighting With Amaranta**

Draco walked into the Slytherin common room to see a crowd of people huddled around the notice board, chatting nervously. He smiled, knowing that they had just found the High Inquisitor's latest decree, which banned all clubs, organizations, and so forth, unless with her permission. He had no need to worry though. The Slytherin Quidditch team was in good hands. He saw Amaranta among the group, and he walked over to her.

"Well, it's a good thing, you're not involved in any clubs or anything, huh?" He whispered into her ear from behind, his hand on her shoulder.

"Yeah."

* * *

Malfoy just couldn't wait for Potions, so that he could rub it in Harry's face that the Slytherin team was going to remain. He was waiting outside the dungeon when he saw Harry and his group of losers making there way to him. He held out the official form for the Slytherin Quidditch team for all to see, and said loud enough for anyone within 20 meters to hear, "Yeah, Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing right away. I went to ask her first thing this morning! Well, it was pretty automatic, I mean, she knows my father, with how much he's at the Ministry. . .It'll be interesting to see whether the Gryffindors are allowed to keep playing, won't it?" 

The filthy mud-blood, Granger, put her hands up to hold back the two boys. "Don't! It's what he wants. . ."

Draco smiled maliciously. And I always get what I want, he thought before continuing, even louder than before. "I mean, if it's a question of influence with the Ministry, Gryffindor doesn't stand a chance! From what my father says, they've been looking for a reason to sack Arthur Weasley for years. . .And as for Potter. . .My father says it's only a matter of time before the Ministry has him carried off to St. Mungo's. . .apparantely, they have a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic. . ."

Draco made a retarded face, his teeth sticking out, and his eyes rolling around. Crabbe and Goyle laughed obediently, and Pansy Parkinson shrieked with glee. Then he saw a fleeting flash of a boy burst past Harry.

"Neville, _no!_" They called out and Harry grabbed him by the robes, pulling him back. Weasley and the mud-blood ran to help him, holding back Longbottom to the point of nearly choking him.

Draco only gleemed malevolently. Especially when Proffesor Snape walked by, noticing the commotion, said, "Fighting, Potter, Weasley, Longbottom? Ten points from Gryffindor. Inside, all of you."

Draco walked in, nose proudly in the air. He noticed Amaranta watching him, and he smiled. She didn't look angry at him for his bullying, but she didn't look pleased either. She simply ignored him, looking over his shoulder to Harry and his friends, who sat down next to her.

"You will notice," Snape said in a low voice, "that we have a guest with us today."

Everyone looked to the corner he was gesturing to see Umbridge sitting on a stool, her clipboard in hand. His two favorite teachers in one class, maybe one of them just might try and pick on Potter, and hopefully Snape would leave Amaranta out of this one, though she shouldn't hang around them in the first place.

* * *

Finally, classes were over and they had the rest of the day for homework and rest. While Draco had Parkinson do his homework for him, he took Crabbe and Goyle with him on a stroll around the grounds of Hogwarts. He spotted her, some distance away, sitting amongst a bed of wildflowers, writing on a piece of parchment, a textbook open beside her. Strange, but her dark prescence didn't seem to contrast at all with the bright, sunny scene. In fact, she seemed more at home than ever. As if she was where she belonged. 

As Draco stood there, stunned, Potter and his group walked to her. They passed a couple of words to each other, Draco was too far away to hear, and after nodding, Amaranta left with them. That left a sick feeling in his stomach. He didn't know why, but lately, Amaranta had been spending more time with Potter than with him. Even if it was for this so-called "mission" of hers, he would not tolerate this any longer.

He followed them for a while. They walked to the Gryffindor tower, talking all the way. He froze as they reached the portrait of the fat lady. They wouldn't actually invite her in, would they? He let out a sigh of relief when he saw them wave farewell to her and climb in through the hole. She stared at the fat lady for a while, and didn't walk away until the portrait gave her a good lecture.

When she rounded the corner, she found Malfoy in an abandoned hallway, leaning against a stone pillar. "Great pals with Potter, aren't you?" he snapped agrily.

"Befriending Harry Potter is part of-" she began, blank-faced, but Draco cut her off.

"-your mission, right? If you use that excuse too much, I just might suspect you. Just what exactly is this 'mission' of yours, huh?"

"You know as well as anyone that I can't tell you," she replied. "I'm pushing it just telling you that I even _have_ a mission. You know how he is. Always likes to do things in secret."

"Crabbe, Goyle," he adressed them, and without even issueing the order, the two goons held Amaranta up by her arms, so that she was lifted off the ground and couldn't move. Her bag fell to the floor and its contents spilled out. "Amaranta, we've been friends for a long time. I'd appreciate it if you didn't lie to me!" He snarled.

Amaranta looked like she was trying her best to remain calm, but she was quivering slightly and her eyes looked shifty. This was probably the first time he had ever turned on her. He stepped closer so that his words were only a whisper. "You'd like to be real chummy with Potter, wouldn't you? You think he's so great with all those things he did. Or maybe its just that he's forbidden territory that draws you to him. But I bet he wouldn't like you once he finds out who you're father is, eh?"

Amaranta's eyes widened in terror. "You wouldn't. . .!"

"Oh, but yes, I would, my little Amaranta," he straightened himself now, not bothering to whisper anymore. "Once he finds out, he'll hate you, probably even try to kill you."

"No, don't!" The words escaped her mouth, betraying the anguish inside. She drew back, trying to hide the desperate look on her face.

Draco smiled triumphantly. "Oh, but I think I will. Potter doesn't know you like I do. I'm sure he'd like to know more about his new buddy."

"P-Please don't," her lips quivered, and her eyes were becomming steadily watery. "Don't tell him, please. . .Draco. . ."

He froze. That was the first time he had ever heard her utter his name. And she was shaken with the impact. If she kept cowering in fear in front of him, he couldn't act as harsh as he wanted to. She didn't look at him, her tortured gaze looking down at the stone floor, causing her dark locks to fall in front of her face. He tried to push down the feelings welling inside of him.

"If you want me to keep quiet, you must do as I say," he gestured for Crabbe and Goyle to release her. She fell down to her knees, and began to put her things back into her bag, her hair covering her face the entire time. "I no longer want you to sit by Potter in any of your classes, even the ones I'm not in. You will sit by me in Potions, and you must never associate with Potter, you got it?"

She nodded her head. "Yes." Her voice seemed colder than normal, and she gathered up her things, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

He could now see her face and he felt a lump in his throat. She was as cold and expressionless as ever. She had locked her heart up again. He now regretted everything he had said.

"Shall we head back to the dungeon?" she suggested, and Draco shivered at the sight of those blank eyes.

"Uh. . .sure."


	5. Practicing With Amaranta

**A/N:** Oh, if you're looking for that picture I promised in the previous chapter, check my profile for it. Thank you readers! I look forward to your reviews!

**Practicing With Amaranta**

Harry waited in the Room of Requirement with Ron and Hermoine. The room impressed him with everything they'd need for Defense Against the Dark Arts training. The wall was lined with shelves packed with books all on Defense Against the Dark Arts, and cushions all around the place, just the right number, too.

He didn't have to wait long for everyone. Dean, Lavender, Parvati, Neville, and Ginny were the first to arrive, but then everyone soon followed afterwards. He even had a fleeting suspicion that Amaranta wasn't going to come, but it was dispersed the moment she walked through the door. She had been avoiding him these past few days, never leaving Draco's side. And every time he stole a glance at her, Draco shot him a nasty glare, and pulled Amaranta even closer to him. Her blank face never changing.

"Maybe it's just me," Hermoine said after passing Amaranta's messages to Harry, which mostly involved her aplogizing for something, "but I think she looks more _lifeless_ lately." Draco never left her side, except for bathroom breaks, which is where Amaranta spoke with Hermoine, asking her to pass the message to Harry for her.

"Doesn't she always look like that?" Ron interjected.

"She has a blank face that says she tries to conceal her feelings," Hermoine pointed out, "but now it looks as if she has no feelings at all, or rather, she's locked them deep inside. Poor thing looks so pitiful, caged by Draco's side. He must've threatened her or something!"

"Yeah, it must be torturing being with Malfoy every waking hour," Ron snorted. "I think I'd kill myself. Or him."

Harry ignored their talk for a while as he watched everyone make themselves comfortable on the cushions. Amaranta, having arrived last, got the cushion in the back, and Harry hoped this was the only reason.

"Well, I've been thinking about the sort of stuff we should do first and-erm-" He noticed Hermoine's raised hand. "What, Hermoine?"

"I think we ought to elect a leader," she said.

"Harry's leader," Cho snorted, thinking that was obvious information. Harry's stomach did a back flip.

"Yes, but I think we ought to vote properly. It makes it formal and gives him authority, so everyone thinks Harry should be our leader?"

Everyone held up their hands, including Amaranta. Harry was relieved that she didn't appear to hate him or anything.

"Er-right, thanks," Harry said, feeling a blush in his cheeks. "And-_what_, Hermoine?"

"I also think we ought to have a name," she smiled brightly, hand still poised in the air. "It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don't you think?"

"Can we be the Anti-Umbridge League?" Angelina suggested.

"Or the Ministry of Magic Are Morons Group?" Fred added in.

"I was thinking," Hermoine frowned at Fred. "more of name that didn't tell what we're doing, so we can refer to it safely outside meetings."

"The Defense Association?" Cho said. "The D.A. for short, so nobody knows what we're talking about?"

"Yeah, the D.A.'s good," sad Ginny. "Only let's make it stand for Dumbledore's Army because that's the Ministry's worst fear."

There was murmur of agreement and Hermoine wrote DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY across the top of the parchment with their names.

"Right," Harry said when she had sat down again, "shall we get to practicing, then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_, you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it's pretty basic, but I've found it really useful-"

"Oh _please_!" Zaharias Smith cried, rolling his eyes. "I don't think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help against You-Know-Who."

"I've used it against him," Harry said quietly. "It saved my life last June."

Everyone gaped at him.

"But if you think it's beneath you, you can leave," Harry shrugged his shoulders.

Nobody moved, not even Smith.

"Okay," Harry felt nervous with everyone looking only at him. "I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice."

Everyone got to their feet and divided up. Not surprisingly, Amaranta and Neville were the only ones left, so he reluctantly partnered with the only Slytherin in the room.

"Ok, on the count of three," Harry called out. "One, two, three!"

Shouts of "_Expelliarmus!_" rang through the room, wands flying out of hands. Neville's flew especially far, to the other side of the room. Neville made his way to the wand, but Amaranta was faster. "_Accio _Wand!" She called an Neville's wand flew into her hands. He looked at her testily, but she simply handed him back the wand, a cold look in her eye.

Harry was right in starting with the basics. Few succeeded actually disarming their opponents, and some of the spellwork was a little slipshod. Amaranta, however, ruthlessy sent Neville's wand flying into the walls. If she kept this up, it just might break.

"Ummm, Amaranta, why don't you switch partners with someone," he led her away, and instead of looking insulted, Neville only looked grateful. "Where'd you learn to disarm someone like that?"

"It's self-taught," Amaranta answered coolly. "I've practically lived around this kind of stuff all my life, it just caught on. Besides, I was imagining Neville was Draco."

Harry wasn't expecting that answer. "Why?"

"Well, I could never force myself to harm someone who had done nothing to me first, so I imagined it was Draco, which is probably why I succeed a little _too_ well."

"You usually get along with Draco, you don't actually like him or something?"

"No, it's not that," she replied, sighing. "It's just that. . .he can be disagreeable sometimes."

"You act as if you know him well," Harry commented. This would be the chance to figure out their history together.

"I should say so," Amaranta replied, wide-eyed. "I've lived half my life in his manor."

Before he could inquire further, Cho stepped in between them, seeing her so close made his stomach squirm unpleasantly. "Harry, you said Amaranta should switch partners with someone; why not me? I'll practice with her."

"Um. . .ok," he said, dejected at not being able to find out Amaranta's relationship with Malfoy.

Cho's curly haired friend glared at her angrily, but Cho gave her a twice vicious look, and then turned to face Amaranta. Harry hadn't seen Cho look at anyone so fiercely. They face each other, wands raised in front of their faces, never blinking.

"One, two, Three!"

"_Expelliarmus!_" They shouted at once and each other's wands went flying out of their hands, and both were blown back a bit.

Everyone had ceased practicing to watch as they both used a Summoning Charm to retrieve their wands. This time, they didn't count. Cho was blown back this time, as Amaranta remained rooted to the ground, but both had lost their wands. They stared at each other, as everyone stared at them staring at each other. Amaranta looked colder and more unsociable than ever. Cho gaped up at Amaranta her mouth open, but no words came out. Harry decided to break the tense silence.

"Umm..Amaranta, I think it's best if you practice with Hermoine, instead," he said quietly, but it still rang loudly in the silent room.

She bowed her head slightly. "As you wish," and then walked over to Hermoine triumphantly.

Harry wasn't exactly sure what was going on between those two, but it was clear that Amaranta had won.


	6. In Love With Amaranta

**A/N: **Sorry for the long wait, guys! I think I'm gonna pick _The Golden Fingered and the Blue-Eyed _up again. I've been dreaming about nothing but vampires for the past two weeks. Anyway, enjoy! (Remember, reviews make me want to write even more!)

**In Love With Amaranta**

Draco tapped his foot vexingly. His arms were crossed over his chest, which was puffing with each of his angry breaths. He leered at the blank girl who stared back defiantly at him.

"What do you mean you won't wear the badge?" He reiterated her words. "You're not supporting Gryffindor, are you?"

"Of course not," Amaranta responded coolly, although he had the sneaking suspicion she was lying. She never was a good liar. A lack of practice, he supposed. "But I won't support Slytherin's propoganda, either. I intend to remain a neutral party."

Draco sighed his head into his hands before he put one hand on her shoulder, as if reasoning with a child. "Look, at this school there are no _neutral_ parties. You're either with one team or the other. And if you aren't with Slytherin then you won't be much welcomed here."

"I'm not welcome here anyway," Amaranta shrugged her shoulders casually. She planned to pretend to remain unemotional through this whole façade.

"Did you forget our little 'agreement' from earlier?" His voice became low so passersby wouldn't eavesdrop. "You do as I say and I won't tell Potter you're little secret."

Amaranta gave an irritated sigh. Her emotions were beginning to leak. "What do I have to do to get you to stop this?"

"I only want you to remain by my side forever," he replied, his anger replaced with a suave look, although he only spoke those words audibly enough for Amaranta and him to hear them. If anyone knew this girl was his weakness he'd be done for.

"That sounds like a marriage proposal," her face wasn't as responsive as he had hoped.

"If that's what it takes."

"Unfortunately, I have no say in that matter. You'd have to take it up with my master."

The color instantly faded from his face, and he shivered, although sweat trickled down his forehead. He had nightmares about such things. ". . .I'll see if my father can. . .put in a good word for me. . ."

He streaked off, realizing only seconds later that he had forgotten to force her to wear the badge. Oh well, if she didn't want to wear some badge, he'd let her get away with it. As long as she didn't cheer for the Gryffindors, she'd survive the Slytherins' wrath.

* * *

Malfoy sleeked back his bleach blonde hair that reflected the dazzling sunlight to the point of blinding Crabbe and Goyle. The roar of the crowd didn't bother him as he stood in the large field of the stadium, waiting for the Gryffindor team to make their way. He was too busy searching for Amaranta in the sea of specks. He didn't have to search for too long, however, for it was easy to spot the single green speck seperated from the rest. He was sure she hadn't seperated herself willingly. 

He heard a loud cheer and turned to see the Gryffindor Quidditch team make their way out into the field. Once Potter spotted him, he pointed to one of the silver badges shaped like a crown with the bold print: **Weasley Is Our King**, which went harmoniously with the lyrics to his new song, which the Slytherin team was now beginning to conjure up.

Madam Hooch ushered the captains to shake hands, and after a few minutes of glaring, they stepped back and mounted their brooms. The grey-haired witch waited a few seconds before she blew her whistle and the children shot up into the air in a flurry of gold and green robes.

It had only been about a minute and the Slytherins had already scored a goal. Weasley really was a terrible Keeper. If he continued to clusmily float about, this game would already be decided. But Malfoy had no time to laugh at Weasley's foolishness. He had to find the Snitch before that awful Potter boy did.

However, Fate had other plans. As soon as he had caught sight of the Snitch, Harry Potter had reached his hand out to grasp it in his gloved fingers, even if he was met with a Bludger at the same time. He heard Madam Hooch's piercing whistle, and hovered above the ground, to watch the results of the game. He gritted his teeth when Madam Hooch announced the Gryffindor's win. He landed beside Harry, a snort escaping his nostrils.

He had to act composed. He couldn't let him see how pissed he was. "Saved Weasley's neck, have you?" He sneered, not bothering to hold back his extreme disgust. "He's positively the worst Keeper I've seen in my entire life. Well, I do suppose he was _born in a bin_. Did you like my lyrics, Potter?"

Harry ignored him, returning to his team where he received a series of congratulations and whoots. Seeing that he wasn't reaching the desired effect, Draco increased his volume and said more sinisterly than ever, "We had wanted to write a few more verses! But we couldn't find rhymes for retarded and fat-we wanted to mention his mother, you see-we couldn't find words for _useless bum_, either-for his father, you see. . ."

He smirked as he saw one of the Weasley twins freeze. This only made him continue on. "But you're pals with the Weasleys, isn't that right, Potter? Spend holidays and all in that dump. I don't see how you can stand the smell, but I suppose when you're brought up by Muggles, even the Weasley mess of a shack seems bearable-"

He should have expected what happened next. Harry, who had been holding back George, raging like a beast, had suddenly let him go, sending the red-hot fury his way, but not before Harry had sunk his fist, still clutching the Snitch, into his face. He had received such a beating that resulted in him squirming in pain on the grass, bood trickling from his nose. Only when Madam Hooch had used the Impediment Jinx on Harry did the boy stop trying to inflict pain on any part of Malfoy he could get his hands on. It was only after Madam Hooch had sent the two boys up, that Malfoy got up, clutching his nose and walked himself to the infirmary.

* * *

He was glad Amaranta hadn't seen him up close. To be seen with a bloody nose, and no visible scars on his opponents was a real blow to his pride as a man. Well, if it had been a matter of magic, he surely would've won. He had just finished getting his nose healed by Madam Pomfrey, when his favorite little witch shyly walked into the room. Surprisingly, she had various scratches and bruises over her as well. 

"I was called out by a couple of Slytherin girls," she answered his unspoken question. "Some of your fangirls, I'm guessing. They seemed to think that Gryffindor's win was my fault, though I don't know how they came to that conclusion."

"Who was it? Tell me and-" He began, immeadiately at her side.

"No," she held a hand up, then turning to Madam Pomfrey who was making her way toward her, "and I don't want to be healed either. Even I have my pride. Besides, I'm used to much worse."

Draco, ignoring Madam Pomfrey's prescence for a bit, stroked her damaged cheek. How dare someone injure her beautiful, smooth face! If he found out, he'd use everything in his power to injure them to the point they were unrecognizable! And knowing her nature, she didn't fight back either. . ."You will be healed," he ordered, dropping his hand, instantly feeling that strange longing feeling. "I can't let anyone see my precious flower damaged so. Madam Pomfrey, if you will. . ."

The old nurse grinned broadly, as if she had just found a secret, and ran off to return with a cup of some dark green potion, still smirking at him. "Just drink this, dear," she handed the cup to Amaranta. "It'll clear up all scars in an instant. Works like a charm, everytime. Come now, drink up."

Amaranta looked hesitantly at the strange concoction, and not so surprisingly enough, it was unappetizing, too. However, she obediently forced it down, a pastey taste left in her mouth. And just like Madam Pomfrey had predicted, the scars and bruises slowly began to fade away until Amaranta was restored to her original splendor.

Draco gave the old witch a quick glare to signal her dismissal, and she left quietly, leaving them alone in the sunlit infirmary. He noticed that there were plenty of beds and chairs around for them to use, but he was afraid of getting anywhere near a bed with her.

"Listen, Draco," the sound of his name ringing from her sweet voice made his hair stand up on end. She was holding his fingers in her hands, her usually blank face betraying some sort of emotion. "I feel the need to apologize to you. You have only been trying to protect me this whole time, and I've just ignored you. Even if its for a mission, I can't deny you attention either. You're my only friend, after all, even if you are a little cruel."

That was right. He was her only friend. Not Potter, not the mud-blood, and most certainly not the Weasley, but him. He had been with her since they were little kids, he had played with her in his manor, he had led her through this school, and he'd definitely be the one to tear down the wall that seperated them. He couldn't resist a smile, as he sat her in one of the wooden chairs by the beds.

"Do you remember that time we chased around all the house elves with socks?" he reminisced happily.

He caught a fleeting smile from her. "Yes, and how they ran in fright, while uttering their apologies."

It was undeniable. He had finally caught it, her beautiful smile, and she hadn't forced it one bit, either. She truly smiled at him. He had won this round. He had seen her smile before Potter.

Draco found the beds rather tempting, since she continued to hold his hands. He had to figure out some way to distract him from the evil thoughts creeping into his mind at that moment. "Hey, Amaranta, do you want to take a ride on my broom again?"


	7. Rebelling With Amaranta

**A/N: **Ah, I love Amaranta from Harry's P.O.V. It makes her looks so awkward. Anywho, enjoy this one! It might be my favorite chapter so far.

**Rebelling With Amaranta**

A lifelong ban from Quidditch? How was Harry going to live now? Quidditch and the D.A. meetings were the only thing helping him keep his sanity this year, and the D.A. meetings might end if they were caught. How was he supposed to live now? Harry moped in a desk by the window, pretending to be writing his essay for Proffesor Flitwick. Fred and George occaisionally threw snowballs at the window, laughing every time Ron shouted at them, only to receive a face full of snow.

Hermoine returned to the common room, her robes damp from her trudge from Hagrid's. She had gone there to try and convince him to only teach harmless animals, or else Proffesor Umbridge would give him the sack.

"So. . .?" Ron inquired when he noticed her.

"No good," Hermoine sighed, slumping into a chair. "He wasn't even there. I was knocking for at least a half an hour before he came out of the forest-"

Harry knew that nothing good could come of this. "What's he keeping in there? Did he say?"

"No. He wants it to be a surprise. I tried to explain to him about Umbridge, but he just won't listen. He kept saying it was more interesting to study a chimaera than knarls-Oh, I don't think he's got anything like a chimaera," Hermoine added when she saw Harry and Ron's appalled faces, "I told him it was better to follow Grubbly-Plank's plan. I honestly think he didn't listen to a word I said."

Hagrid was welcomed enthusiastically by many students, especially Fred and George, when he appeared at the staff table at breakfast the next day. Others like Parvati and Lavender only sighed gloomily. They much rather preffered Proffesor Grubbly-Plank's safer lessons.

That's why he felt so relieved when he saw that the High Inquisitor was not present, but he knew it was only a matter of time. . .

He noticed Amaranta arriving a few minutes later than he did, with none other than Malfoy. Not that he'd expect anything else. This time however, she waved, and something of a smile tugged at her lips. He waved back, feeling his stomach jump. She needed to stop smiling at him like that. It was creeping him out. Though, this time, it reminded him of the feeling he got everytime he saw Cho Chang. Maybe it was just him, but she looked paler than usual.

Hagrid was waiting for them, standing beside the Forbidden Forest with a dead cow slung over his shoulder. His pussing cuts and bruises didn't help to pacify the frightened students, either. "We're goin' in here, today," he announced to the students, pointing to the dark and foreboding trees behind him. "Bit more sheltered, ya know? They prefer the dark, anyway."

"What prefers the dark?" If Malfoy had been trying to conceal his fear, he was failing terribly. He shook a bit, and his eyes were wide. He didn't dare look at Amaranta next to him. Even though her face looked clamy, Harry had the feeling its wasn't from fear.

Unfortunately, Hagrid looked as giddy as if he were showing them a special secret. Harry knew from past experiences that this was not good. "I've bin savin' a trip inter de forest fer yer fifth year. We're gonna get ter see some pretty rare creatures. I'm probably de on'y person in Britain who's trained 'em-"

"And you're sure they're trained?" Draco clenched and unclenched his fists. "It wouldn't be the first time you brought rabid animals to class, would it?"

A murmur of agreement arose from more than just the Slytherins.

"'Course they're trained!" Hagrid shouted defensively. "I wouldn't show 'em ter ya otherwise."

"Then what happened to your face?" Malfoy inquired.

"Mind yer own business!" Hagrid said. "Now follow me!"

He turned angrily on his heel and strode into the forest. Harry looked at Hermoine and shrugged, as they led the group of kids after Hagrid. After ten minutes of walking, the class found themselves in a dense area of trees to the point it looked like night. Hagrid dumped the dead cow on the ground and stepped back.

"Gather roun'," he ordered. "They'll be attracted by the smell, but I'm goin' ter give 'em a call anyway, so they'll know it's me. . ."

Moving his shaggy head around he gave a loud, high-pitched bird cry that echoed through the trees. After a minute or so, he did it again, and the class peered around nervously, expecting to be jumped any second.

Harry soon noticed a pair of glowing white eyes from the gloom, that slowly grew larger as they came closer. Soon, they were followed by a dragonish head and a knoby skeletal body that resembled a winged horse. To sum it up, a zombie pegasus from hell. The small creature slowly made its way to the cow, and began to tear at its flesh.

Harry sighed, glad he hadn't imagined these creatures form the night he saw them pulling the carriages the beginning of the year. However, when he looked around, everyone was still searching. After another zombie horse came by and unfolded its leathery wings, Hagrid said, "Now, who can see 'em? Raise yer hands."

Harry raised his hand, relieved to finally know about these mysterious creatures.

"Yeah, I knew you'd be able ter see 'em, Harry," He said. "An' you too, Neville, eh? And. . .I don't remember you. . ."

Everyone turned to look at Amaranta. "I transferred here before you're return, Proffesor," Amaranta spoke seriously. "My name is Amaranta."

"No need ter call me Proffesor, Amaranta," he blushed with embarassment. Harry wondered if he actually was a qualified teacher. "Just call me Hagrid."

"So, who else can see 'em?"

"Excuse me," Malfoy interjected. "But what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?"

Hagrid simply pointed to the carcass on the ground. There was a few moments of silence before everyone gasped and squeals rang through the class. Harry could sympathize with their reaction. Bits of flesh tearing themselves away from the skeleton and vanishing into thin air must look interesting.

"What's doing it?" Pavarti hid behind a tree.

"Thestrals," Hagrid announced proudly. "Hogwart's got a whole herd of 'em in here. Now, who-"

"But they're really unlucky!" Parvati shouted. "They're supposed to bring all sorts of horrible misfortune!"

"No, no, no," said Hagrid, shaking his head with a smile. "Tha's jus' superstition! They aren' unlucky; they're useful an' dead clever. 'Course, this lot don' get a lot o' work, jus' pullin' de school carriages, an' fer when Dumbledore wants ter travel widout Apparatin'-

"I think one touched me!" A girl screamed.

"Don' worry, it won' hurt yeh," Hagrid tried to sooth the girl. "Now who can tell me why some o' you can see 'em an' some can't?"

Hermoine eagerly raised her hand, anxious to answer.

"Yes, Hermoine."

"Only those who have seen death can see thestrals."

"That's exactly right!" Hagrid beamed at her. "Ten points ter Gryffindor! Now, thestrals-"

"_Hem, Hem._"

Harry could feel a sickening feeling in his stomach. He had been too hopeful to expect Umbridge to spare Hagrid on his first day back. She was wearing a purple and pink hat, with a cloak, her clipboard in her arms. This was going to get dirty.

"Oh, 'ello!" Hagrid smiled down at her.

"You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?" she spoke loud and slow, as if speaking with a foreigner.

"Oh, yeah!" Hagrid spoke lightly. "Glad yeh found de place all righ'! Well, as you can see-or maybe not-we're doin' thestrals today-"

"I'm sorry," said Umbridge loudly, cupping her hand over her ear. "What did you say?"

"Thestrals!" He spoke loudly. "Big-er-winged horses, yeh know." He flapped his gigantic arms, trying to resemble wings.

Proffesor Umbridge gave him a surprised look and muttered as she wrote on her clipboard, "_Has. . .to. . .resort. . .to. . .crude. . .sign. . .language. . ."_

"Well, er, anyway," Hagrid turned back to the class, scratching the back of his neck, flustered. "What was I sayin'?"

"_Appears. . .to. . .have. . .poor. . .short. . .term. . .memory. . ."_ Umbridge muttered loud enough for everyone to hear, scribbling on her clipboard.

Malfoy grinned broadly. He seemed happy enough to wet his pants, Hermoine, however, was turning a dangerous shade of scarlet.

"Oh yeah," Hagrid glanced uneasily at Umbridge's clipboard, but continue on bravely. "I was gonna tell yeh how come we got a herd. We started off with a male an' five females-"

"Are you aware," Umbridge interrupted rudely, "that the Ministy of Magic has labeled thestrals as 'dangerous'?"

"Thestrals aren' dangerous!" Hagrid replied with a chuckle. "All righ', they may take a bit outta yeh if yeh really annoy 'em-"

"_Shows. . .signs. . .of. . .pleasure. . .at. . .idea. . .of. . .violence. . ."_ Umbridge was barely muttering anymore, her voice was so loud.

"No-come on!" Hagris wa beginnin to look anxious now. "A dog will bite yeh if ya bait it, righ'? Thestrals have jus' got a bad reputation because o' the death thing. People used ter think they were bad omens, but they didn' understand!"

Umbridge ignored him, finishing the last bit of her notes on the clipboard. When she had finished, she walked up to Hagrid and said very loudly and slowly. "Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk" -she mimed walking with her fingers- "among the students" -she pointed at some of the class- "and ask them questions." She pointed to her mouth to indicate talking.

Hagrid was staring at her, at a complete loss as why she was treating him as if he didn't understand any English. Hermoine had tears of fury in her eyes.

"That evil, evil hag!" she rasped, as Umbridge walked to Pansy Parkinson. "I know what you're doing, you evil, twisted, awful, vcious-"

Hermoine stopped her ranting when she noticed Amaranta had her hand up. "Proffesor Umbridge!" She called out.

Umbridge, learning her lesson, simply pretended not to notice. However, once Amaranta stood up and shouted "PRO-FFES-OR UM-BRIDGE!" she had no choice but to acknowledge her prescence.

"_Yes, dear?_" She spoke sweetly, but the corners of her lips wee twitching.

"I"-Amaranta stuck her finger in her chest- "just want you" -she pointed at Umbridge- "to know" she pointed towards her head- "that you" -she pointed to Umbridge again- "are being an ass." She pointed to her rump.

Proffesor Umbridge was at a loss for words. She stared dumbly at Amaranta as a few giggles rose from the class. Frowning, Amaranta sighed loudly, "It seems you don't understand. How about I" -she gestured towards herself- "draw it for you." She motioned drawing on an invisible pad.

Still to shocked to move, Umbridge only watched as Amaranta took her clipoard and began to scribble on her notes. From the angle Harry was at, he could clearly see what was written on the clipboard. Amaranta had taken her quill and drawn a large picture resembling the back end of a horse, and on the top in big, bold letters, she wrote _Dolores Umbridge is an ass._ She handed back the clipboard to Proffesor Umbridge, who quickly turned a deep shade of crimson that would shame Uncle Vernon.

"You-I-This-DETENTION!" She screamed, her curled hair becoming ruffled. "DETENTION! DETENTION! _DETENTION!_"

"Oh, what are you gonna do?" Amaranta shrugged nonchalantly. "Make me do more lines?"

Before anyone could understand what was happening, Umbridge had slapped Amaranta so hard across the side of the face, her lip had busted. Amaranta, put her fingers to her lip, and pulled back to see crimson blood. Her eyes wide, soon shrinked into venomous slits, which turned the icy glare on Umbridge.

_"I mutter a curse upon your dark soul!"_ She spoke in a wispy tongue, that made all the appalled kids shrink in fear.

* * *

No one so vehemently openly opposed Umbridge. Well, no one openly opposed her, but even if they had, it wouldn't have been like this. Amaranta did everything that opposed all of her decrees. She would wear casual clothes, and quite gaudy ones at that. She wore short black miniskirts, followed by long, stripped hose, and cloggers, and a red tube top. No one knew how, but she managed to tattoo a very comical Umbridge, eating a fly, as green as frog. She would chew gum, and if ever in sight, spit it at Umbridge. She would openly curse, and start clinging herself to the nearest guy each time Umbridge as within range. She jinxed all her ornamental cat plates to make them fart instead of mew, and would mischeviously hex the proffesor often.

Dungbombs, Sniveling Snackboxes, enchanted fireworks, Flatulating Firns, all managed to find their way into Umbridge's office. In the Great Hall, she would walk about as she pleased, stuffing her face in a very unlady-like manner. She died her bangs a bright red. Defense Against The Dark Arts now became a show to entertain the class. Every chance she got, she would do something to oppose Umbridge. However, she didn't skip her detentions. Oh, no, not her. She went to each one, and each time, she'd repeat the words of her curse, glaring at Umbridge all the while.

Because of her outright refusal of Umbridge, Amaranta had been dubbed the hero of all of Hogwarts, excluding the Slytherins. Umbridge was their savior, although most of them were too afraid to oppose Amaranta. She had beaten Pansy Parkinson and a few other girls to a pulp when she had called her into the bathroom for a little "chat" about her recent behavior.

But, Harry noted with a smile, she was laughing, and smiling now. Even if most of it had an evil presence about most of it, Amaranta was smiling at everyone. "It feels great," she told him one day, arms wrapped around Harry's and Ron's necks. "I've never felt so free! So alive! All my life, I've been bullied, pushed down and treated like shit! Now, I can finally stick it to the man! Or frog, in this case."

"Whoever knew you were such a rebel," Ron snorted. "Is it that time of month?"

Amaranta released Harry, to wrap Ron in a headlock, driving her knuckles into his head.

"But look at the price you've paid for it!" Hermoine protested. For some reason, it was always Harry and Ron who got her "tough love." Hermoine always remained untouched. "You've got all these scars all over your body! It's obvious to anyone they're from Umbridge's detentions! This is out-right child abuse!"

"It's fine," Amaranta sighed, smiling fondly at Hermoine. "I'm used to pain. I get to the point where I can't go with weeks without pain. Most of these scars are self-inflicted."

They gaped at her, even Ron, although he was choking from Amaranta's death grip. They had never noticed, because of all the long sleeves from the robes and winter clothing. Amaranta was some sort of masochist?

Amaranta laughed, and released Ron, seeing as how he was beginning to turn blue. In the action, however, she tripped over her own feet, but managed to catch herself before falling flat on her face.

"Amaranta! Are you alright?" They all called out in alarm.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," she waved off their concern with one hand, the other clutching the side of her head. "Just a bit tired is all. I think I'll go take a nap."

"Yeah, do that," Hermoine patted her back. "Can you make it alone?"

"I'm tired, not sick, Hermoine. I can walk. Bye." She left without another word.

Harry looked at his watch, frowning. It was only 7 o'clock.

* * *

A knot had grown in Harry's stomach. Everytime he looked at Amaranta, the knot tightened. She looked paler by the day, and sometimes she'd sweat, despite it being colder than the Arctics outside. Harry wasn't sure if it was the revealing clothing, or if she was physically exhausted. Harry's suspicions were confirmed when Amaranta began to huff at his side as they walked up the staircases that led to their next class.

Her face was as white as the snow outside, sweat dripping down her face, ruining her makeup, and she was leaning on the hand rails, her bag looking like it weighed ten tons. Her knees wobbled dangerously, making Harry worry that she might collapse any second.

"Hey, Amaranta, are you okay?" He asked her, stopping to turn around. "You lok tired. You wanna rest in the infirmary?"

"Are you silly?" she replied with a weak smile. "We've got Arithmetic next. There's no way I can afford to miss a single class. I'm fine."

Despite Harry's doubts, Amaranta managed to make it up the stairs, although she was swaying a bit now. His heart sank when he heard a familiar voice sneer at him from the left.

"Potter!" Malfoy growled. "What are you doing with Amaranta?"

"Going to our next class, obviously," he replied coolly.

"There's no reason for you to go together!" Malfoy shouted. "Just because Amarnta's shown a bit of pity upon your filthy soul, doesn't mean she's befriending you. Stop dragging her everywhere! She looks to tired, poor thing! Come on, Amaranta,you're coming with me to the infirmary."

He grabbed her arm, pulling her along. "What. . .about. . .class?" she huffed.

"Hey!" Harry called out as he was beginning to pull her away.

"Just skip class!" Malfoy replied, pulling her a bit more firmly.

"Wait. . .Draco. . .no. . ." Her words were slurred, and the world tilted around her, as she collapsed onto the ground. (Shocked, Malfoy had let go of her).

"Amaranta!" the two boys called out, but they got no response.

* * *

"It's ok," Madam Pomfrey told the two boys patiently, as she tucked the covers over Amaranta's unconcious body. "She's just passed out. She'll live."

"Ok? _OK?_" Draco snapped at her. "How can she be _ok?_ Look at her! She won't wake up! She's gone into a coma!"

"It's really not that serious," Madam Pomfrey attempted to stay the child. "She just collapsed from exhaustion. Her body needs rest. However, she does look rather thin. And her blood pressure is very low, too. I suspect she might be anemic. Has she been eating well and getting enough sleep? I'm sure all these scars on her body had some contribution to it. With such thin blood, it's not good for her to get cut up like this, not that it's good for anybody. She's losing valueable blood that her body needs. She can't afford to waste a single drop." Madam Pomfrey nodded her head and walked off.

Harry swallowed a dry lump in his throat. Now that he thought about it, Amaranta must be extremely busy. She was behind in all her classes, so she did extra studying on top of the monsterous amount of homework fifth years were forced to do. She went to D.A. meetings and put ruining Umbridge's life at the top of her list. Come to think of it, she was always doing homework during mealtime, if not breaking one of Umbridge's rules. Should he forbid her from coming to the D.A. meetings? But she was doing so well, and that was one of the few times he could see her without Draco searing through his back.

"She's truly fragile, no matter how much she pretends," Harry wondered aloud.

Malfoy shot him a nasty glare. "It's because she hangs around you guys too much that she is so tired all the time. Leave her alone and let her do what she wants."

"If you hadn't noticed, genius, she is doing what she wants," Harry snorted. "Not my fault if she likes to strain herself. Though I think you aren't exactly helping, either."

"What do you mean?" Draco stood up from the chair he had been sitting in beside Amaranta's sick bed. "I can have Fredrick Fonsley do her homework for her! He's the smartest Slytherin around!"

"So is that why you haven't flunked yet?" Harry replied with a haughty smirk. "Been having Freddy do your homework for you?"

"I don't need to!" Malfoy sneered. "Unlike someone who's barely getting by in Potions class."

"I hardly think that I'm the only one contributing to that grade," Harry was shaking with anger now. "Everyone knows that Snape's got it out for me!"

"Everyone's got it out for you, Potter," Malfoy shot back. "Hopefully, one day, you'll just die, and spare the world."

"You wanna go?" Harry shouted threateningly, grabbing Malfoy by the collar.

"Bring it on, Potter!" Malfoy smiled, his hands clenched into fists.

"Can you guys shut up!?" Amaranta's scratchy voice broke the tense atmosphere. "I'm trying to get some sleep."

"Sorry," they both apologized at once, letting go of each other.

"Oh, and Draco, I'll take you up on that homework offer," she muttered just loud enough for him to hear, as she snuggled into her pillow. "Homework seems pointless to me."

* * *

With December came the Christmas spirit, that affected everyone, whether in a good or bad way. Even Amaranta, whom to Harry's surprise, had never even heard of Christmas. She gazed about the decorations, awed, and her torment of questions was relentless. Most of them he didn't even know the answer to, but luckily, Hermoine would step in and answer them all. She seemed proud of Amaranta's pursuit of knowledge, even if it was just for a holiday.

And with the holidays coming close, the last D.A. meeting before the holidays had finally come. Everyone seemed to arrive at once, with Amaranta coming in just second after Angelina. Amaranta looked at him expectantly, but Angelina began to yak on to him about the new Quidditch replacements, so Amaranta just took a cushion to the front and sat quietly.

Since everyone was just about to go away on holiday, Harry thought it best just to review everything they had done these past months. Even if his class was dissappointed in not doing anything new, they obeyed and began to practice every curse, jinx, hex, and charm. Neville Longbottom improved vastly. Amaranta, was third in the class, first being Harry, and second being Hermoine, but only by a bit. Amaranta seemed to have great practice with each of them.

Before he realized it, their time was up, and everyone began to file out of the Room of Requirement. Cho lingered, staring into one of the many mirrors about the room. Amaranta stared at the two of them for a while, before she too, left.When Harry walked up to her, he noticed that she was crying. Just. . .crying.

"Um. . .what's up?" he asked nervously.

"I'm sorry," she wiped her eyes only for more to come. "It's just. . .learning all this stuff. . .makes me wonder if _he'd_ known it at all. . .he'd still be alive. . ."

Harry's heart sank. Of course she had wanted to talk about Cedric. "He did know this stuff," Harry said solemnly. "He was really good at it, or he wouldn't have made it to the middle of the maze. But if Voldermort" -Cho flinched- "really wants to kill you, you don't stand a chance."

"But _you _survived when you were just a baby," Cho pointed out, still crying.

"Yeah, well," said Harry as he began to make his way towards the door. "No one knows why, so it's nothing to be proud of."

"Oh, please,don't go!" Cho cried out. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean. . .it must be terrible of me to mention Cedric when you saw him die. . ."

Harry didn't say anything. Any response to that would just be heartless.

"Mistletoe," Cho said, pointing to the ceiling above his head.

Harry's heart was racing faster than before and his mouth felt dry. "Yeah, it's probably full of nargles, though."

"What are nargles?"

"No idea," Harry's wasn't sure if it was sweat running down his face or if one of Cho's tears had sprayed on him. "You'd have to ask Loony-I mean, Luna."

Cho chuckled, and moved closer to him, so that he could see her tears cling to her cheeks. She was way too close. "I really like you, Harry."

His mind must have died at that moment. He couldn't think, he couldn' move, he could only watch her lips close over his.

* * *

After Cho had left, Harry remained in the room, dazed. He didn't notice Amaranta had entered the room until he heard the loud clank of the door. He jumped and turned around to see her looking very upset. She had a bright flush across her face, and was holding something behind her back. She wouldn't look directly at him, and had a skiddish way of walking to him. There was no doubt. She had just seen him snogging Cho. But why was she looking so hurt, and why did he have this guilty feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"M-Merry Christmas!" She shouted as she thrust something into his chest and ran out.

Harry stared after her before he looked down at the small, flat package before him. He slowly removed the wrapping, and could only give a bittersweet chuckle when he saw what it was. A picture frame decorated with holly enased a priceless photo of Umbridge screeching in terror. This just might be the greatest present he could receive right now.


	8. Celebrating The Holidays With Amaranta

**A/N: **SQUEEEEE!!! Oh, Writing this chapter made my timmy tuckle! Sorry for the late update. Summer Marching Band Camp has started so I spend all morning (and occaisionally up to 3:00) out in the sun. So, when I get home, I am dead tired, and not in the mood to think. But, I managed to squeeze one out. Enjoy! (Oh, and Sarafu happy!)

**Celebrating The Holidays With Amaranta**

After Amaranta's visit to the infirmary, it seemed as if her rebellious nature had been cooled down. She still wore the casual clothing, but she didn't bomb Umbridge's office, or do anything to actively oppose her. Half the reason was that she was too tired to anymore, the other half was that Draco Malfoy wouldn't allow her.

"Eat up, Amaranta," he ordered her. "You've barely touched your breakfast. You need to eat more to get some weight on you. This will be the only time you can eat all of your favorite sweets!"

Amaranta didn't answer him, just gazed dreamily at the back of a couple of Ravenclaw heads. She had her chin in her hands, and she hadn't blinked in ten minutes. After a moment of silence, she finally spoke. "Draco, what is it when two people put their mouths together?"

Malfoy's face flushed a deep red. What a thing to ask abruptly! "It's c-called k-kissing. . .or snogging, if you like. W-Why do you ask? "

Her gaze moved down the Ravenclaw table towards a group of giggling girls. "I saw some girl and some boy doing that, and was wondering what it was. Why do they do that?"

"Er. . .uh, well, you see," Draco was even redder than before. "When a guy and a girl really like each other, they want to get close to each other. . .and, uh, well, they-" Draco tried vastly to remember the "talk" his mother had given him only a year ago. That wasn't something you really wanted to remember. "At first, you just want to be near them, but. . .as your, er, feelings grow, you want to. . .touch them. . .and k-kissing, is a way to. . .um, show your feelings. . ."

"So, if someone you don't like kisses you. . .?" Amaranta began, still staring blankly.

"Usually, you'd push them away, or at least say something," Draco frowned. Amaranta had no tact at all. Had someone kissed her?

"Really?" she asked, but Draco didn't think she wanted an answer. "So if you don't push them, does that mean you like them?"

"Eh. . ., yeah, if it makes you happy, but-er, why do you want to know all these things anyway?"

Amaranta finally blinked, sighing. "Just curious. I don't know about these kinds of things, and I think I should."

Draco frowned, doubting her reply greatly. Hopefully, it wasn't for the reason he was thinking, but now that she was responding to him, he could try asking her. . . "Hey, Amaranta, you know Christmas break is coming, and since most kids are leaving to visit their families, I was wondering if you'd like to come to my manor with me?"

Amaranta didn't turn to look at him. "Will your dad be there?"

"Well, of course, but he doesn't usually leave his study when he's at home, so it'll just be my mother and us."

"And the house elves," Amaranta said with somewhat of a grin.

Draco smiled. "Yup."

* * *

They arrived at his mansion just before noon. The grand pillars were decorated with lights and holly, and the snow all over the front yard lay untouched. As they walked down the path that led them to the front door, the trees lining the path were sparkling jubiliantly, with snow and artificial lights. Upon the door hung a wreath made of golden bells, so that when Draco opened it, jingles rang through out the house. He looked around the house.

The entry way was a vast room with a large marble staircase, of course, covered in golden tinsel, in the middle that split into two, each twirling up and to the balcony. Upon the ceiling hung ornaments on low strings so that they swayed with the slightest bit of air. Bits of snow had been enchanted to take the form of little cherubim that flew mystically around the large ornaments, a glittering trail of white following behind their flight.

Draco was only given a seconds warning before his mother flew through a door to their left and flung herself at the blonde boy. He managed to stay upright as the full force of her tackle hit him, and the blonde woman wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Oh, my boy! My one and only precious son!" She cried. "He's back! Oh! I missed you so much!" She drew back to smack his cheeks and pull his face closer so that she could shower him with kisses.

"M-Mum, stop-hey! No! Stop that! Not in front of-" He growled, trying to escape her lips.

The woman stopped, letting him go to finally notice Amaranta standing behind him, gazing at all the red lipstick smudges now on Draco's face. "Oh, so it's you again, Amaranta," the woman's happy smile had fallen to one of dislike. She was a dashingly beautiful woman, with long white-blonde hair like Draco's and dashing grey eyes. Her make-up was light, excluding the thick, red lipstick she wore. She was tall, thin, and adorned a green dress. "You know, Draco, you really shouldn't affiliate with this girl."

"I can 'affiliate' with anyone I want!" Draco shouted. "We're hungry, so we'll put our things away, and I want to see some lunch when I get back!"

"That's my boy," she patted his head adoringly. "Always on his toes. Business, business, business. Well, I'll go tell the elves to get to cooking."

After they had eaten a hearty lunch, Draco declared he was going to go play with Amaranta, and dragged the girl away. He led her through the manor, and stopped as he glanced at her outfit. She was wearing long, black pants, but only a short-sleeved T-shirt, and her elbow-length gloves. "Aren't you cold in that?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied.

"Then why don't you put on a coat?"

"I don't have one."

"What happened to the purple one you had before?"

"It was jinxed to destruction."

"By who?"

Amaranta didn't answer. Why was she being bullied so much?

"Then you can use some of my mother's old ones," he declared, pulling her by the arm. "They're out of fashion, so she doesn't use them at all. She won't even recognize them if she saw them, I bet."

He pulled her up a long flight of stairs, and into a small storage room at the top of the house. His mansion had four stories, making it the tallest building in the entire Malfoy estate. He had never really ventured much to the top floor. It was mainly used for storage, and there wasn't anything very interesting, so he gazed about, just as much as Amaranta did when he opened the door to a dusty and dark room. He dug through boxes and boxes of clothes before he finally handed Amaranta a black trench coat and a long, billowing red cloak. The red cloak was a nice touch; it brought out the rosiness in her cheeks, and made her lips look even redder. Her lips. . .

"Hey, Amaranta," Draco put his hands in his pockets to hide how much they were fidgeting. "Do you, uh want to try out that kissing thing?"

"But don't you only do that with someone you really like?" Amaranta gazed at him, unblinking.

Draco's heart squirmed. "But you like me right?"

Amaranta was silent for a while, her finger tapping her chin in thought. "Yeah, I suppose I do."

"Then it'd be ok, right?" Draco spoke hopefully, stepping a bit closer. "We're just expressing how much we like each other. It's the same as holding hands or hugging."

Amaranta stared at the dusty floor for a second, before she looked straight at him, her face completely blank. "Ok."

Draco's heart fluttered. He took a deep breath to try and keep it from soaring to the heavens. "Ok, now, to properly kiss, you need to close your eyes first."

Amaranta looked curious, but closed her eyes. Draco's blood was pumping faster, he drew nearer, so close that he could feel her breath.

"Now you need to put your arms on my shoulders," he was whispering, now, as he picked up her hands and draped them around his neck. His stomach was jumping into chaos, just like his heart, now. He hoped no more organs would begin to spaz, or he just might pass out. "And I put my hands around your waist," he whispered, settling his hands on her hips. He could hear her swallow. "And then. . ."

The moment Draco's lips met hers, a hurricane of feelings imbued him. He wanted to hold her tightly, and push her away, he wanted to make her smile, he wanted to make her cry, he wanted to beat her, he wanted to caress her, he wanted to lock her up, he wanted to let her free, he wanted to make her his, he wanted to let her go, he wanted to bite into her flesh, he wanted to be eaten by her, he wanted to make her bleed, he wanted to heal her, he wanted all of her, he wanted none of her. He wanted to break down the physical barriers that kept them apart and become one being.

He didn't realize what he was doing until he heard Amaranta's moan of pain. He pushed away from her, as she fell back onto a pile of boxes. He had bitten her lip, and dug his nails into her sides. If he had remained in that state any longer, he just might've started to tear at her flesh.

"I'm sorry, Amaranta, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" He tried to smooth back his wild hair.

"I think we should get downstairs," Amaranta said coldly. "The dust is getting in my throat."

She strode past him and out of the room. Draco muttered a curse under his breath, and followed after her.

* * *

The next day, Amaranta acted as if nothing had ever happened. Draco wasn't sure if she had forgiven him, or if she just wanted to forget, but since today was Christmas, maybe her spirits would rise. That was, if Lucius hadn't decided to spend time with the family. They all sat quietly at the dinner table for their Christmas feast.

When they had finally finished, Narcissca spoke into the thick silence, "Draco, why don't you run on into the sitting room and open your presents."

Draco nodded obediently and walked over to the sitting room. Amaranta silently followed, her food barely touched. If Draco hadn't known any magic, it would've taken him all night to open the mountain of presents that surrounded the gargantuan tree in the vast chamber they called a sitting room. The Malfoy's son sat lazily in one of the comfy armchairs, flicking his wand lethargicaly, as wrappers and boxes flew everywhere. He found a vast assortment of candy, which he ungracefully handed to Amaranta who just stared blankly at them, new dress robes, the latest broomstick, and all sorts of things any other kid would die for. But this Christmas, he was in too much of a bad mood to enjoy his fortunes.

"Amaranta, come here," Lucius ordered from the largest chair in the whole room, it looked more like a throne.

The girl obeyed, swimming out of the pile of chocolates Draco had thrust upon her. She stood in front of the man with long, blonde hair, as he examined her meager appearance amongst all this splendor. He picked up her chin to turn her face this way and that, and then pushed her away, as if he had just touched something gross. "You seem to be well," Lucius snarled. "The Dark Lord will be pleased. He sent you to Hogwarts with your health in mind."

Draco stiffened when he saw Amaranta's new rebellious face emerge. This could not bode well.

"Excuse me, Mr. Malfoy," Amaranta spoke boldly, glaring at Lucius. "But I find it difficult that the ominous Dark Lord of all evil cares about a mere orphan girl's health."

Lucius smiled ruefully. "Not for sentimental reasons, no," he then turned to Draco. "You really shouldn't get attached to such a girl. You'll regret it in the end. You should accompany yourself with more rewarding people."

"She is rewarding!" Draco snapped. "She is an excellent witch! Crabbe and Goyle are nothing compared to her!"

"So, you only see her as one of your servants," Lucius mused, leaning back in his chair and drinking some blood red, after-dinner wine. "She must be useful, then, compared to those blubbering bafoons. But there is still no need to lower yourself to speak with this creature."

Draco stood up. Why must he always treat her like a house-elf? "And why can't I? She's a Slytherin, and of Pure Blood!"

"Yes, her blood is _pure,_ as some may call it," Lucius twirled his wine lazily, but his eyes had an icy glint.

"Then why?" Draco shook his fists. "Why do you hate her so much? Why do you hate it when I talk with her?" The young Malfoy awaited for his father to answer, but it was Narcissca who spoke.

"Draco, I think it's time you went to bed," she commanded more than suggested. "You're father is tired from doing the Dark Lord's will. I will hear no more of this, am I clear?"

Draco scowled and then stomped off up the stairs. What's his parents freaking problem anyway?

He didn't have to call Amaranta for her to follow. She hated his parents' company more than he did. Even though his room was next to hers, he didn't feel like sleeping tonight. He was too angry. So instead of entering his large room, he turned to the smaller one that was Amaranta's. It was only on his threat to run away that she was even granted a room. She used to sleep with the elves.

It was obvious the Malfoy wealth was not wasted on her room. She only had a bed, and was lucky that eery room, except for closets, had windows. It seemed as if they purposefully _un_-furnished the room for her soujorn there. Draco plumped onto her bed angrily, arms crossed. "Man, my parents don't understand a thing! The reason you're with my family and not any other Death Eaters' is because we have the most money to spare and room. Plus, we can show our faces in the open. If you were put into our care, then why aren't they caring for you!"

He opened his mouth for more ranting, but stopped as he saw that Amaranta was standing in the doorway, looking down at the floor.

"What's wrong with you?" he didn't mean to say that with as much fiercness as he did. He was just still angry. "Come in, shut the door. It's your room, isn't it?"

Amaranta did as she was told, but didn't move away from the door. Was she afraid of him after what he had done to her? "Amaranta, what's wrong?"

"Is. . .what your father said true?" She said after a few moments silence. "That you only see me as a servant? That I'm no better than Crabbe or Goyle?"

So that was it. Why was she worrying over something so stupid? "Of course not! We've always been friends! We've even kiss-" He cut himself short. Maybe bringing that up wasn't something he should have done.

But Amaranta didn't seem to have noticed that last sentence. "I think it's best if we get some sleep, Draco."

He gave a relieved sigh. He was forgiven, for now. . .


	9. Grumbling With Amaranta

**A/N: **Darn you, band! give me my life back! Even in the chaos that is Summer Marching Band, I still dutifully dish out the chapters! Enjoy, my lovely readers!

Disclaimer: Purely fan-based. All credits of the characters (excluding Amaranta) go to J.K. Rowling.

**Grumbling With Amaranta**

December passed into January, and the students slowly returned to Hogwarts. Before most knew it, January had ended, and February was lurking around the corner. Harry wasn't sure what transpired over the Winter Break between Draco and Amaranta, but he wasn't bossing her around as much as before, and she didn't speak much with him. She continued her campaign against Umbridge, though it was more mellow than before. Umbridge seemed relieved of this aspect, but that didn't mean she wasn't as annoying as ever.

Amaranta's constant presence was welcomed mainly by Hermoine, although Harry and Ron didn't mind that much. It wasn't until Cho Chang called out to him in the hallway, that he wished she wasn't there, and somehow his wish was granted. Hermoine pulled Ron along to the library.

"Hi, Harry," Cho said with a nervous smile. "There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up. . ."

"Huh?" He shook away the leaping feeling in his stomach, trying to pay attention to what she was saying. "I haven't checked the notice board."

"Yeah, it's on Valentine's Day. . ."

"Right," Harry was wondering why that mattered. "Well, I suppose you want to-?"

"Only if you do," she replied instantly.

Harry stared silently. He was about to ask "I suppose you want to know when the next D.A. meeting is?" but her reply didn't make sense.

"I. . .er. . ." he said.

"Oh, it's okay if you don't," she hung her head, crestfallen. "Don't worry. I'll s-see you around."

She walked sullenly away, as Harry watched, his brain working frantically. Then it hit him.

"Cho! Hey, wait!"

He ran after her, catching her by the arm to turn her around. "Er. . .do you want to come with me to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day?"

"Oh, yes!" Cho squealed, blushing brightly.

"Well then. . .okay. . ." He left to go pick up Ron and Hermoine at the library, thinking he saw a glimmer of Amaranta's red bangs around the corner, but waved it off as imagination.

* * *

News of the Death Eater's breakout from Azkaban was the topic of everyone's whispers, after the _Daily Prophet _arrived that next morning. Harry wanted to discuss some of these things with Proffesor McGonnagal, but not after Educational Decree Number Twenty-Six. Teachers were banned from talking about anything but their subjects with students.

This catastrophe that had happened right under Fudge's nose only intensified Umbridge's furious desire to have everything under her control. It was only a matter of time before someone got sacked. And with the ever approaching O.W.L.'s looming in the future, life was rigorous for the fifth years. Harry was afraid that Amaranta might fall into a coma with all that she was doing. She looked older, more tired than ever. Her red bangs were gone, by magic he supposed, her attacks on Umbridge were almost non-existent and Umbridge seemed to have found her weakness: homework.

"Sometimes I'd wish I could just explode with how much homework she gives me!" Amaranta sighed loudly. "Two 36 inch essays just for one class! I haven't slept in three days!"

"So that's why you're so crabby," Ron mused.

"Shut up, Freckle Face!" Amaranta snapped, but then it seemed she had come to her senses. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ron. I know I'm crabby. Draco says so too."

"I thought Draco was going to get someone else to do your homework," Harry said.

"Umbridge found out and gave us both two weeks detention," Amaranta let her head fall on the table in the Great Hall with a loud thump. "I swear, if I don't kill her, I'll kill myself."

They stopped their conversation as the morning owls swooped in to deliver everyone their mail. Hermoine tugged a letter from an unfamiliar brown owl.

"It's about time!" she fumed, wrenching open the letter and reading speedily. "Listen, Harry, this is really important. Could you meet me in the Three Broomsticks around midday?"

"I dunno. . ." Harry said doubtfully. "Cho might be expecting me to spend the whole day with her."

"Well, bring her along if you must," Hermoine said. "But will you come?"

"Yeah, sure, but. . .why?"

"I've got no time to explain now," Hermoine stood up suddenly clutching the letter. "I've got to go."

They watched her leave and Harry turned back to see a tense Amaranta. "Today's Valentine's Day?" she asked dryly.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "Are you going to Hogsmeade?"

"Uh. . .yeah," she nodded skiddishly.

"But I thought you had homework," Ron scrutinized.

"I CAN GO ANYWHERE I DAMN WELL PLEASE, FRECKLE FACE!" She shouted at the top of her lungs, drawing a few curious, and slightly frightened, stares. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ron. I just need a break from school. That'll do me the trick. . ." She stood up and walked out of the hall, rubbing her temple.

"You don't suppose it's that time of month, do you?" Ron asked after he was sure she was gone.

Harry shrugged, guessing it was all just stress, and proceeded to the entrance hall, where he met up with Cho. Her long black hair looked even silkier than ever today, and her almond eyes even more piercing. He suddenly became aware of how stupid he looked, with his arms swinging limpily at his sides.

Today was light and breezy, and Harry found it easier to walk in silence outside, then stand awkwardly in queue inside. He looked over to the stadium and saw Ron and Ginny swooping around on their broomsticks and he felt a slight pang.

"You really miss it, don't you?" Cho broke the silence.

"Yeah, I do," he said.

"Remember the first time we played against each other in the third year?"

The topic of Quidditch carried them all the way to Hogsmeade. It wasn't until a couple of Slytherin girls gigged at them, that they finally walked in a flushed silence. Harry looked around. Amaranta had said she would come, but he hadn't seen her. Maybe she was jus around. . .

"So. . .what do you want to do?" he asked her nervously.

"Just look around the shops, I suppose," Cho answered and they traveled to Dervish and Banges. It started to rain as they passed Scrivenshaft's, so Cho suggested they head to Madam Puddifoot's, a small coffee shop Harry had never noticed before. The entire place was decorated with frills and bows all pink, red, and white. Harry was reminded sickeningly of Umbridge's office.

"Cute, isn't it?" Cho said brightly as she pulled him along to a round circular table.

"Err. . .yeah," he lied.

Golden cherubs flew around and occasionally sprinkled the shop's occupants with pink confetti. Haary looked around and saw that they were sitting next to the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, Roger Davies, and a pretty blonde girl. They were holding hands and smiling into each other's eyes. Harry noticed that the whole shop was full of couples, all holding hands. Maybe Cho wanted to hold hands.

"What can I get you, m'dears?" Madam Puddifoot, a plump woman with black hair sleeked into a taut bun.

"Two coffees, please," Cho said.

By the time they had acquired their coffees, Roger Davies had already started kissing the pretty blonde girl. Harry wished so much that they wouldn't do that. It felt like they were setting a standard with which Cho would soon want fulfilled. His face grew hot and he turned to stare out the window.

All embarrassment fell away when he saw Amaranta, drenched in the heavy rain and looking more tired than ever. She was shouting angrily at someone, whom Harry soon realized was Draco Malfoy. He cut off her screaming by shouting something himself, that seemed to shock her. She suddenly whipped out her wand and pointed it threateningly at him. Malfoy looked a bit taken aback, but continued to sneer in his usually annoying way. Another liquid that Harry was almost positive wasn't rain trickled down Amaranta's cheeks. She shouted something, chucked her wand at him, and stormed off. Malfoy watched her walk off, smacked himself in the head, and then picked up her wand and walked after her.

"They've been fighting a lot recently," Cho said, as Harry noticed she, too, was looking out the window. "I figured it was stress, from how busy all the fifth years have been lately, but it seems that Draco Malfoy did something that she's not too fond of. I wonder what they were arguing about this time. They always seemed like good friends."

He noticed that she had now turned her gaze to him. "It seems that Draco Malfoy his head over heels for her. I think he's serious."

She watched him intently, but Harry showed no reaction. He turned back, and stirred his coffee idly. Roger Davies seemed glued by the lips to his girlfriend, and Cho soon turned her attention back to them. A strange silence fell over them, and Harry cast around wildly for something to say.

"Er. . .d'you want to come with me to the Three Broomsticks around lunchtime? I'm meeting Hermoine Granger there."

He instantly regretted ever saying that. Cho raised her eyebrows, her eyes glaring ominously. "You're meeting _her? Today?_"

"Yeah, well, she asked me to, so I thought I would. D'you want to come with me? She said it wouldn't matter if you did."

"Oh, well, that was nice of her!" Cho shouted angrily. "And who else are you going to meet up after that? That Amaranta girl? You going to comfort her after fighting with Draco Malfoy? I can't believe you'd actually think about that freak on a date with me!" She was standing now, tears in her eyes.

Harry stood up too. "Hey, she isn't a freak! You'd hate it if Malfoy was dogging your steps too! And who ever said I was thinking about her?"

"Oh come on! You were gaping at her through the window! How many other girls are you going to meet today?"

"Listen, it's not like that-"

"Why don't you just go on and leave! I'm sure Hermoine Granger is waiting for you!" She walked to the door in wet fury. "See you around, Harry." And she was out the door.

Harry grumbled, slapped a galleon on the table and ran out the door to find her, but the rain was pelting him so heavily he couldn't see her anymore. "Women," he muttered angrily and headed down the sloshy street to the Three Broomsticks.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the Great Hall with Hermoine, Ron, Fred, and Luna when owls began to swoop all around him. He opened them all, and soon realized they were all replies to his interview with Rita Skeeter in _The Quibbler_.

"This one thinks you're mad," said Ron, tossing it aside. "Oh, hey, this one believes you!"

"This one says they believe me too," Harry said as he read through the letter.

"What's going on here?" came a girlish voice from behind that instinctively gave Harry shivers.

He turned around to see Proffesor Umbridge standing behind Fred and Luna. Many of the students behind her were watching attentively, one being Amaranta.

"Why have you got all these letters, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"Is it a crime to get mail now?" Fred spoke loudly.

"Be careful, Mr. Weasley, or I shall have to give you detention," Umbridge smiled menacingly at him. "Mr. Potter?"

"People have written to me, because I gave an interview," he said boldly. "About what happened last June."

"An interview?" Umbridge seemed disgruntled. "What do you mean?"

"You know, a reporter asks questions and I answer them," Harry said slowly, gesturing his hands a bit. He saw Amaranta smirk behind her at the Slytherin table. "Here," he threw her a copy of _The Quibbler,_ feeling elated.

Umbridge caught the magazine and stared down at the cover. Her pale, from make-up, face turned a dangerous shade of violet. "When did you do this?" her voice was more high-pitched than usual.

"Last Hogsmeade weekend," Harry said.

"There will be no more Hogsmeade visits for you, Mr. Potter!" she rasped at him, hoping that no students heard, but all were watching intently now, trying to hear. "How dare you. . .I have told you again and again _not to tell lies!_ The message, apparently, has still not sunk in. Fifty points from Gryffindor and another week's worth of detention!"

She stormed off, crushing _The Quibbler _in her stubby fingers, students watching her all the way.

Not so surprisingly, Harry found another Decree stating that all copies of _The Quibbler_ were banned from school, posted not just on the notice boards in the Houses, but all overthe school. Hermoine smiled every time she saw one.

"What are you so giddy about?" he asked her.

"Don't you see, Harry?" Hermoine said happily. "If there was one thing Umbridge could've done to ensure that everyone read your interview it was banning it!"

And she was quite right. Harry found copies of _The Quibbler_ in people's handbags, in text books, and people were reciting it by word to each other. Umbridge stalked the school, asking everyone to turn out their bags at random, but the students were one step ahead of her. They enchanted torn out pages of his interview to look like blank pieces of parchment whenever someone besides themselves tried to read it. Hermoine reported seeing girls talking about it in the bathrooms.

"It's so much better to oppose Umbridge in secret than out in the open," Amaranta giggled to him, after she flashed him a copy of _The Quibbler_ in the hall. "You don't get detentions! I think I'll make a poster of this and hang it in the dungeons."

"I doubt the Slytherin House would appreciate that," Harry said worriedly, but smiled nonetheless. He was glad her mood had improved.

Harry was in the middle of Occlumency lessons with Snape when he heard a shrill woman's scream. He and Snape ran out to the entrance hall. Students were flooding out of the Great Hall to see what the commotion was. The students had formed a ring , with Proffesor McGonagall standing exactly opposite to Harry. Proffesor Trelawney stood in the middle of the entrance hall, an empty sherry bottle in one hand, a wand in the other. Her hair seemed frizzier than usual, and her eyes even wider. She looked like a complete wreck. Two massive trunks lay behind her. She was gazing, petrified, at a pleased looking Umbridge.

"NO!" Trelawney shrieked. "This c-cannot b-be happening! I refuse to accept it!"

"You didn't realize this was coming?" came Umbridge's overly sweet voice. "Incapable though you are of predicting tomorrow's weather, you could not foresee that your pitiful performance during inspections would lead to your being sacked?"

"You c-can't!" cried Proffesor Trelawney, tears falling down her cheeks and filling her sherry bottle. "You c-can't sack me! S-Sixteen years, I've t-taught here! H-Hogwarts is m-my home!"

"It _was_ your home," Umbridge almost laughed, she was enjoying Trelawney's sobbing so much. "Now please remove yourself from this establishment. You're embarrassing all of us."

Proffesor Umbridge gloated greatly, watching Proffesor Trelawney shriek and moan pitifully on her trunks, clutching her tear-filled sherry bottle, as if it would save her. Harry saw Lavender and Parvati crying uncontrollably to his left. Then footsteps echoed through the tear filled hall. Proffesor McGonagall had walked over to Proffesor Trelawney, and handed her a handkerchief, a sympathetic arm around her shoulder.

"There, there, Sibyll. . .It's ok. . .Calm down. . .Blow your nose. It's not so bad. . .You're not leaving Hogwarts. . ."

"Oh, really, Proffesor McGonagall?" Umbridge dared her. "And your authority for that statement is. . .?"

"That would be mine," a deep voice rang throughout the hall.

The large oak doors had swung open and Dumbledore strode boldly down the marble staircase and towards Proffesor Trelawney.

"Yours, Proffesor Dumbledore?" Umbridge laughed. "You don't seem to understand your position! I have here" -she showed him a piece of parchment- "an Order of Dismissal signed by the Minister of Magic himself! The High Inquisitor of Hogwarts has the power to sack any teacher she sees fit, or, that is to say, isn't working up to the Ministry's approval. I have dismissed her."

To Harry's surprise, Dumbledore continued to smile kindly at Umbridge. "You are quite right, Proffesor Umbridge. You have every right to dismiss my teachers. You do not, however, have the authority to send them away from the castle. That power still resides with the headmaster, and I have no wish to send Proffesor Trelawney away." Then he turned to Proffesor McGonagall. "Might I ask you to escort Sibyll back upstairs, Proffesor McGonagall?"

"Of course," McGonagall nodded. "Come now, Sibyll. Up with you."

Proffesor Sprout went to Proffesor Trelawney's other arm, and Proffesor Flitwick enchanted her trunks to follow. Umbridge stared up, horrified, at Dumbledore. "And what," she rasped, "are you going to do with her once I appoint a new Divination teacher who needs her lodgings?"

"Oh, that won't be a problem," Dumbldore smiled calmly. "You see, I've already found a new Divination teacher, and he will prefer the ground floor."

"You've found-!" Umbridged shrieked. "Might I remind you that under Educational Decree Number Twenty-two-"

"-the Ministry has the right to appoint a suitable candidate if-and only if-the headmaster is unable to find one," Dumbledore finished for her. "I have found a teacher this time, I'm afraid. Would you like for me to introduce you?"

He turned to face the open oak doors, and Harry heard hooves on hard stone. Shocked murmurs rippled through the crowd like an explosion. A centaur with white-blonde hair, dashing blue eyes, and the palomino body of a horse stared down at everyone.

"This is Firenze," said a happy Dumbledore to a completely thunderstruck Umbridge. "I think you'll find him suitable."

* * *

Harry was sure that if it had not been for the D.A. meetings, life at Hogwarts would drive him suicidal. (He never thought he'd actually admit such a thing about the school he loved so much.) Harry figured Umbridge must be part dementor.

The D.A. members had progressed tremendously, especially Neville. No one worked harder than him, with the exception of Hermoine, of course. They had just begun to work on Patronus's and everyone was shooting silver wisps out of their wands. Of course, producing a Patronus in a brightly lit room was different from producing it in front of dementor.

"Don't be such a killjoy, Harry," Cho said brightly, watching her swan-shaped Patronus waltz about the Room of Requirement. "They're pretty."

"They're not supposed to be pretty," Harry frowned. "They're supposed to protect you. We need a boggart or something. I learned when the boggart was pretending to be a dementor. . ."

"That would be terrible!" Lavender exclaimed, trying desperately to form the puffs of silver coming out of her wand into some solid form. "I still. . .can't. . .get this. . .to. . .work!"

"You've got to think of something happy," Harry reminded them all.

"I'm trying," Neville sighed, his face contorted with concentration.

Amaranta was having the most trouble of all of them. She couldn't even produce silvery wisps from her wand. She stood nearly the entire time holding her wand out in front of her, staring meekly at a wall. Harry walked over to her, segregated from the rest of the group.

"You need to think happy thoughts, Amaranta," he told her again.

"I know, I know that, but. . ." Amaranta averted her eyes to the ground, depressed. "Everytime I think of something that makes me happy, I realize that it will only be destroyed soon."

"Well, how about a happy memory?" Harry suggested. "If it already happened in the past, it can be destroyed."

"Hmmm. . ." Amaranta looked at her wand. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Slowly, she waved her wand fluidly, and said, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

A long silvery wisp lashed out from her wand and danced around the room, wrapping around itself, until it began to form a shape. Harry began to make out wings, and soon a silvery butterfly was gliding around the room and all the students.

"Good job!" He exclaimed, happily, before he noticed that tears were traveling down her cheeks, although there were no other signs of emotion. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

She shook her head, but Harry could still hear her say, "I want to escape this net I'm in."

Before he could inquire further, however, the door opened, and Harry saw none other than Dobby come in. He noted the frightened look in his face.

"What's wrong, Dobby?" he asked the elf, holding him by the arm in case he attempted to hurt himself in his presence.

"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter, sir. . .she. . .she. . ." The house-elf shrunk in fear.

Harry knew that only one "she" could cause so much fear in Dobby. "Umbridge?" he guessed.

Dobby nodded, then attempted to smash his head into the nearest wall, but Harry held him at bay. "What about her? She hasn't found out has she? About us?"

He saw the answer in the elf's terrified face. "Is she coming?" he whispered to him.

"Yes, Harry Potter, Yes!" Dobby howled.

Harry turned to the terrified faces of the D.A. "What are you waiting for?!" He shouted at them. "RUN!"


	10. Afraid With Amaranta

**A/N: **Much is revealed! Hope you enjoy this next chapter of TFTNF! But if my beta don't start kicking it into gear soon, I might not be dishing 'em out as fast as I do. (I'm seeing a major decline in reviews...--)

**Afraid With Amaranta**

Draco Malfoy was sitting in the Slytherin dormitory, brooding on Amaranta's reason of absence. She had been avoiding him ever since that incident on Valentine's Day. He could still remember it clearly. Every hateful word that flew from her mouth, and the terrible mistake of opening his.

He had been running through the streets of Hogsmeade, trying to escape the pelting rain that hit him. Then he noticed the idol of all his affection standing, pressed against a wall corner, peering into a steamy window. She ignored the rain completely, not even bothering to put on her hood, which was only creating a pool of water.

He was about to call out to her, when he noticed what she was looking at. Harry Potter was sitting at a round table, with a pink,doily table cloth, a girl he recognized to be Cho Chang sitting across from, looking to her right, where a group of teens were kissing.

It felt like someone had produced the Fire Charm in his stomach. Anger rising, he walked up to Amaranta. She didn't notice him until he said, "Stalking Potter like a little Peeping Tom, aren't you, Amranta?"

She flicked around, horrified. "D-Draco! W-What are you-"

"I could ask you the same thing!" he roared, rain spitting out of his mouth. "Though it's quite obvious! Taking a teeny peek at Harry Potter, are you? You seem to be doing that a lot lately! Do you fancy him? Does a Slytherin dare to fancy a Gryffindor! I bet you like all those stories about him. _The Boy Who Lived!_ Everyone thinks he is so great! So special! I bet you're hoping to snog him! I kissed you first, remember! Or do you want some more, you little slut!"

Amaranta, stared at him, completely shocked. Her hurt expression snapped him back to reality. Why? _Why?_ Why did he always say things that hurt her! Slowly, her offended expression melted into a snarl and she whipped out her wand, pointing it dangerously at Draco. He was sure that it was tears streaming her cheeks and not rain.

"You-You. . .Draco, you _arse_!" She shouted and flung her wand at him, turned heel, and ran.

He had returned her wand that night, in the common room, but she ignored him, snatching her wand from his fingers coldly. Even though she wasn't looking at him, Draco could see her eyes were puffy and red. She had probably cried the rest of her Hogsmeade trip.

She became a mute to him from that moment onwards. He knew she talked with everyone else, but never even looked at him. He didn't even try to approach her for the first week, knowing what he had said was wrong. But after weeks and weeks, of thinking about it, he still couldn't stifle that anger that she was definitely watching Potter.

He was sure that the excuse for her usual absence tonight was that she was trying so much not to see him. She was more than likely in the library, studying. He felt miserable. A month without her made him realize how much he wanted her, and if he could ever receive her forgiveness, he'd never let her go, and never open his mouth either. If she just didn't watch Potter so much. . .

He jumped when Zacharias Smith burst into the empty dungeon, breathing hard.

"Umbridge. . .found. . .a secret. . .club. . .Potter. . .the leader. . ."

That was all Draco needed to hear. He followed Smith out of the Slytherin dungeons at a run. He soon joined up with the rest of the Inquisitory Squad, as they ran to the seventh floor. When he turned the corner into the hall, he saw kids running, but he cared not for them, he only had eyes for Harry Potter. This would be his chance to show Amaranta how much of a loser this scarred boy truly was. He spotted him, dashing to the right, but he had already turned his wand on him.

Potter appeared to have tripped, flying a good six feet on the floor. He turned on his back, grunting heavily, to see a smirking Malfoy. "Trip Jinx, Potter," he said. "Hey, Professor-PROFESSOR! I've got one!"

Umbridge came hustling around the corner, her grin so noticeable, it was hard to avoid it. "It's him!" she cried, ecstatic. "Oh, excellent, oh very good, Draco, fifty points to Slytherin! I'll take him now." She crushed Potter's arm in her steel grip, dragging him along. "You hop along now, Draco. See if you can round up any of the others. Tell the others to look for anyone out of breath, check the library and the bathrooms. And you-" she turned to Harry Potter in her sweetest, most evil voice. "You're coming with me to the headmaster's office."

Draco laughed and resisted the urge to click his heels together, ran to order everyone to search the place. It took only a few minutes before Pansy Parkinson glided up to him, gleefully. "Look who I've got here, Draco."

He wanted to hex Pansy Parkinson for dropping that anchor in his stomach. Amaranta, red cheeked and breathing hard, was standing there in Parkinson's viselike grip, avoiding his gaze. It hit him like a chunk of lead. These meeting's of Potter's had been going on since the second month of school. She had been sneaking behind his back with Potter this entire time?

"Release her," he said calmly to Parkinson.

"What?" she looked at him dumbly.

"DID I STUTTER? I SAID LET HER GO!" His shouts echoed throught the hall.

Pansy Parkinson shrank back in fear, and cowered behind Crabbe and Goyle as soon as they came around the corner.

Amaranta did not make any move. She had been tied with a Restraining Jinx and continued to stare at the floor. Draco took a few minutes, trying to suppress his raging anger, knowing that it only ever got him in trouble. When he was sure he could proceed civilly, he said, "How long have you been attending these meetings?"

Amaranta made no noise.

"Since the beginning, am I wrong?"

Her sunken face of guilt told him the answer.

"So you had already betrayed me long before, huh?" He could not deny the venom seeping into his voice. No! He had to keep calm! Yelling at her would only drive her away!

"Draco, I-"

"SHUT UP!" He yelled. Now he couldn't stand to hear her voice. It'd only confirm how true all of this was. He glared at an empty suit of armor, but his perriferal vision showed her pained expression. Finally, he said "I'm going to tell him."

The other Slytherins looked confused, but Amaranta flung her head in his direction with a horror stricken face. "No! Don't!"

"Oh, but I think I will," he said, a sadistic grin spreading across his face.

Amaranta looked at him curiously. His raw anger had morphed into something twisted and grotesque. He was smiling at her, although his heart was crying out in pain. This was not him. He did not want to hurt her again! He leaned closer to her, so only she could hear his next words, that gross smile still on his face.

"You've been straying far, little sheep," his fingers grazed her cheek, and they twitched at the feel of her warmth. "I'm going to have to lock you up, if you stray too far from my sight."

"Are you the shepherd, or the wolf?" she frowned, her painful expression gone.

"I can be either, depending on your behavior," his hands moved down her cheek and to her neck. "Or, I can just send you back to your father. Tell him of all your good deeds."

Something in him delighted at the sight of her paling face, the fear that haunted her eyes. He was hurting her again! He had to stop!

But he didn't. Nails digging into her flesh, he pulled his hands back to his sides, relinquishing in the blood on his nails. "I will save you from Umbridge, but you have to spend detentions with me, from now on." He stepped away from Amaranta, and looked at the others. "Don't dawdle, you fools! Search for the rest. But Amaranta's capture shall remain a secret."

"So, you're going to play favorites and protect her again?!" Pansy shrieked, pointing a knobby finger at Amaranta. "What about her punishment?"

"Oh, she'll be punished, alright," Draco gave a toothy grin. "But I shall be her punisher. You need not worry about this one. Now, go search all the Girl's bathrooms. Now!"

Slightly afraid and freaked out by Draco's sudden turn of attitude, they left at a jog. Draco turned to Amaranta. "Now, we shall commence your punishment. Your club has been using a special room that modifies itself to your needs, am I correct?"

Amaranta glanced at him longways, and then shrunk away from him. He put his arm around her shoulder and pulled her near. "It would be wise to answer me, Amaranta."

"Yes, it's called the Room of Requirement," she answered after a shiver. "Draco, you're acting strange. Why-"

"Silence!" he smacked her face, leaving it burning red. "Only speak when I demand an answer. You are being punished, remember?"

She hung her head, and followed as he guided her along to the Room of Requirement. When she was ushered into the door, she was in a dungeon full of all sorts of torture items, and some that looked very physical. She turned to look at him, terrified.

That look crushed his heart. He wanted to stop. He wanted to comfort her, but that maniacal smirk remained. "Don't forget to scream."

* * *

A new decree had hung itself on every wall in Hogwarts, stating that Umbridge was to be the new headmistress. Draco had heard that Dumbledore had fled Hogwarts from Proffesor Umbridge, and that the Ministry was doing all they could to find him. However, the headmistress spent all her afternoon on the first day of becoming headmistress trying to get rid of fireworks that had exploded all over the school. Draco had a sneaking suspicion that the Weasley twins had something to do with it, but since he had no proof, he didn't pursue the matter.

But the fireworks weren't the only disturbance. The next day, a swamp had emerged itself in one of the corridors. The entire school seemed to be crowded around it, with Umbridge pointing her wand at the two Weasley twins. Draco looked around to see if Amaranta was also watching, but he couldn't see her in the midst of all the children. After her "punishment" he had avoided her, and she gladly avoided him.

He was afraid now. The things he had done to her that night frightened even him. It was second only to the Cruciatus Curse. He had only added needless scars to her fragile body. It would be a miracle if she could ever forgive him now. But. . .something was wrong. He had not been himself. It was if he was watching someone else do those terrible things to her. As if he were being controlled. . .

"_Accio Brooms!"_ the Weasley twins had shouted, and that brought Malfoy back down to earth. The twins had mounted their brooms, and were now flying around the corridor and out of the window, but not before yelling "Give her hell from us, Peeves!"

He looked around, as the crowd milled about, but still couldn't find her. He knew he had no reason to hurt her now, so he walked away from the crowd and searched through the other halls. He soon ran into none other than Potty, the Mud-Blood, Weasel King, and. . .Amaranta. She shrieked at the sight of him, and ran behind Potter, shivering dreadfully.

"I'm sorry, Draco!" she cried, her voice trembling with fear. "It's not what it looks like! I just met them in the hallway, that's all! Please don't hurt me!"

The obvious fear she had of him now, hurt him, but the fact she was hoping that Potter would protect her, awakened the beast in him. "'It's not what it looks like?'" he snarled. "What is it supposed to look like? Huh, Amaranta?"

"Hey, just back off, alright?" Granger stepped in. "She's obviously terrified of you, so why don't you just cool down."

"It's you who needs to cool down, Mud-Blood!" Draco snapped. "Though it seems Potty likes filthy, low-lives for company. He doesn't even realize that he's protecting his own enemy."

"What do you mean?" Weasley asked.

Amaranta was whimpering now, her face completely white now. "No, please don't, please!" she murmured, clutching the back of Harry's robes.

"Amaranta's father is the Dark Lord himself," Draco continued on with a smirk. He knew this would hurt her, but he had to keep her as far away from him as possible, even if she hated him for the rest of her life. He was not safe now. "He sent her here to spy on you and Dumbledore. She's been lying to you this whole time."

"You mean. . ." the three turned to look at the pathetic, whimpering Amaranta cowering behind Harry.

"She is Voldermort's daughter?" Harry asked Draco, but didn't keep his eyes off of Amaranta, whom he was slowly backing away from.

"Yes," Draco continued. "She is the spawn of your worst enemy. Her father gave you that scar, and is the reason your whole life is a mess. She has been plotting against you this whole time."

Amaranta had let go of Harry's robes, and was backing away from him, shaking like a leaf. "No, Draco, stop. You promised not to tell."

"So, it's true?" Ron said.

"Y-yes," her knees went weak, and she crumpled to the floor. "It's true, but I can explain-"

"There's no need to explain!" Harry shouted, suddenly angry. "You're a Death Eater, aren't you?"

"No! I'm not!" she pleaded desperately. "I haven't got The Mark! See!" She pulled up her sleeves, to reveal a scarred, but untattooed arm.

"But you've still been working for him!" Harry shouted. "You've been helping him all this time! Voldermort!"

"No! I-"

"I knew we shouldn't have trusted a Slytherin!" Ron spat acidly, and followed Harry when he turned and walked away.

Hermoine looked sympathetically at Amaranta, but followed the boys. Draco, didn't smile, he didn't sneer. He knew that he had just stolen the last bit of happiness from Amaranta, but it was for her own good. If she stayed near him, or near Potter any longer, he just might do something irreversable to her. With his heart crying to the heavens, he turned away from her, and left her crying in the empty corridor.


	11. Reconciling With Amaranta

**A/N: **Well, school has started and I've already been booked with homework. (Not to mention band practice, which my first day made me go to bed as soon as I got home, so I had to do homework in the early morn.) But, even with AP classes swamping me with homework, I WILL NOT GIVE UP! That's not a good thing for you though. That means I'll have less leisure time to do these stories, but I'll try my best to keep them coming at a constant rate. Anywho, we learn Amaranta's past. Enjoy!

**Reconciling With Amaranta**

Harry couldn't believe he had actually befriended Voldermort's daughter. She looked nothing like him (though it would be hard to find another snake-like human nowadays). She had even been sending information to the Death Eaters about him! He felt. . .betrayed. He couldn't be comfortable with her in the same room anymore, which was terrible, seeing as how he had quite a few classes with her. She had attempted talking to them for some time, but after shunning her, she moved her seat as far away from them as possible in all of their classes together.

Hermoine seemed to be the only one who took pity upon her. "It's like she's becoming the next Moaning Myrtle," she said during lunch one time. "She spends all her free time crying nowadays. She's worse than Cho Chang!"

"She deserves to cry!" Ron said angrily, and Harry had to agree. "Who knows what she's told You-Know-Who about us? She's probably the one who told You-Know-Who to attack my dad!"

"Don't be silly!" Hermoine said. "There's no way she could've known you're dad would be patrolling the Department of Mysteries that night! You didn't even know that!"

"Well, she probably told them he works at the Ministry!" Ron retorted.

"They already know that," Hermoine pointed out to him. "Look, she hasn't been in the Great Hall in forever. Now that Draco's turned against her, we're her only friends!"

"No we're not," Harry said venomously. "Not anymore."

"It's not her fault who her father is!" Hermoine pleaded. "She can't choose how she's born. You of all people should know that. Just listen to her side of the story! Maybe Draco was lying."

"You heard her!" Ron argued. "She said it was the truth. We can't trust her! She's a dirty, two-faced Slytherin!"

"You know you sound just like Malfoy when you say that," Hermoine fumed, she stood up, and gathered her bags. "You're so heartless, Ron!" She stormed out of the Great Hall.

Hermoine didn't speak to them for the rest of the day, but Harry didn't mind. It gave him time to think. He was completely deaf to her entire plea of Amaranta's case.

He hadn't noticed until he was walking down to Herbology class that all the plants around Hogwarts were shriveled and brown. The fields of once green pastures had turned beige, as if they were met with winter. The Whomping Willow thrashed about even more than usual, and Proffesor Sprout had to change their lessons, because all of the Lashing Lillies had just shriveled up and died in one of her classes.

After Herbology, Harry made his way to the castle. He was heading past one of the girl's bathrooms, when a couple of Hufflepuff girls caught his attention. He didn't recognize any of them, but they were talking so loudly so that it was difficult not to eavesdrop in the otherwise deserted corridor.

"Hey, there was a girl crying in there," one of them said. "Shouldn't we go see what's wrong?"

"Oh, it's just that Slytherin girl," one with long brown hair said with a wave of her hand. "She's a human hosepipe nowadays."

"No one likes her," another one with blonde hair chimed in. "Not even the other Slytherins. I heard that Pansy Parkinson jinxed her to honk everytime she talked."

"I think Pansy's just glad she's not hanging around Draco Malfoy anymore," the brown-haired one spoke again. "She's always fancied him. I bet she's trying her best to keep them apart."

"That girl is so dark and creepy, anyways," the other said, and they all laughed as they turned the corner. Harry stared at the door to the girl's bathroom, wondering if Amaranta was still in there, crying. She was just like Snape: always bullied and hated. Harry hated himself for pitying his two enemies.

Before he could move, the door opened and out came Amaranta, eyes red and wiping her nose. She froze when she saw him, but then she turned around, head low, and began to walk away.

Harry watched, his head a heated debate. She was just about to round the corner when he shouted, "Amaranta, wait!"

She turned, wide-eyed, and looked at him. He ran to catch up to her, and stopped, unsure of what to say, or why he had even stopped her. They stared at each other for a few minutes before he said, "Follow me."

She obeyed silently, curious and eager. He led her to the seventh floor, and a door immeadiately appeared next to them. Harry opened it, but instead of being the mirrored room that the D.A. meetings usually held, it was a comfy sitting room, with large arm chairs of velvet and a cozy fire rolling in the fireplace. He set her down in the deep violet chair. "Wait here," he ordered and left the room.

He returned with Ron and Hermoine and sat them in the other chairs. He sat in the crimson one that faced the fire. Now, all sitting, confused and in a circle, they turned their eyes on Harry, expecting him to lead.

He turned first to Amaranta, and said, "I still don't trust you, but it's not fair to go on Malfoy's word alone. I want to hear your side of the story."

"I think we've heard enough, Harry," Ron said, getting out of his chair. "She's You-Know-Who's daughter, and she's been spying on us."

"Sit back down," Hermoine said firmly. "You don't know that. Give her a chance, Ron."

Ron sat back down, but not without grumbling.

"Go on, Amaranta," Hermoine said kindly to her.

The dark haired girl smiled widely, tears pouring down her face again. "Thank you," she muttered, before pushing back her tears and beginning her story. "It is true that the Dark Lord is my father, but not biologically. Mr. Malfoy told me that he killed my real parents and took me in. I don't know why he would want me, but I've hardly ever seen him, and when I do, it's a very short visit. I stay with the Malfoy's, in their manor. The Dark lord makes occasional visits to check up on me, but I've learned not to dare speak to him. Last time I tried that, he chopped my arm off, grew it back, and repeated the proccess for an hour."

Harry winced. It hurt to regrow bones, he could only imagine having to grow the whole thing back.

"But if You-Know-Who treats you like dirt," Ron said, "then why does he keep you around. You don't seem like much of a use."

"I've wondered that myself," Amaranta's eyes had stopped watering, and she continued seriously. "I've figured that he was waiting for me to grow up so he could use me for the very reason I am here: to spy on Harry and Dumbledore. I won't say that isn't why I'm here, cause it is. And at first, that was what I was doing, but as I grew to know you guys. . .No one, besides Draco, has ever treated me like an equal before. You all never ordered me around, or punished me when I did something wrong. I haven't sent them any reports. I was told to wait until the end of the year."

"But how were you enrolled at Hogwarts?" Hermoine asked. "You said you were homeschooled until now. Dumbledore checks everyone's backgrounds."

"I have been adopted by the Malfoy's," Amaranta answered. "Legally. They changed the records in a muggle orphanage to have me listed. If anyone looked up my history, they would be stumped at the orphanage. And it was true that I was homeschooled. Draco taught me all sorts of spells over the summer."

"So you mean to say, that you've grown up in the Malfoy manor all your life?" Ron said. "No wonder you have such a horrible personality."

"Ron!" Hermoine hissed.

"Well, anyone who grew up with that guy as a step-brother must be addled in the-Ow! What'd you hit me for?" Ron rubbed the lump forming on his head from where Hermoine had thunked him.

"He's not actually as bad as you think!" Amaranta said urgently. "Draco was the only person who didn't treat me like some house-elf! He was my first and only friend until I met you guys. He treated me nicely until I came to Hogwarts. I think this place does something to him."

"What are you talking about?" Ron snorted. "Malfoy's always been a prick. Always looking down on others."

"Those are just the qualities of a leader," Amaranta said. "And he seems to have something against you guys. I've never seen him be so mean to anyone, even if you are Gryffindors. He always gave me gifts, and we played in the yard all the time. Did you know he has an albino peacock? It's so pretty! His mom and dad don't really like me, but I'm aloud to eat meals with him! And-"

"One more question," Harry interrupted. He couldn't stand to hear anyone talk so affectionately about such a disgusting guy. "During the last D.A. meeting, why did you cry when your Patronus became a butterfly?"

Amaranta froze, wide-eyed, but then she relaxed, and a nostalgic smile spread across her face. "Well, things with Draco haven't gone too well, since I enrolled here at Hogwarts. They've gone straight down the gutter, in fact. When I saw the butterfly, I. . .I remembered a time when we were playing in the gardens at his manor. We were little kids, and the Dark Lord had just finished making a visit.

"He said I was like a butterfly trapped in a net. He promised, he'd get me out of the Dark Lord's net when he came of age. We were planning to runaway together. Somewhere far away form here, where there were no Death Eaters, on wizards or witches, and no Dark Lord."

"Hold on a minute," Hermoine held her hand up. "Lord Voldermort" -Ron cringed- "only came back our first year at Hogwarts. How could he have killed your parents?"

"What do you mean?" Amaranta quirked her head slightly. "I'm only five years old. He did it when I was a little baby."

They all gaped at her.

"You're lying," Ron accused. "There's no way you could be five years old and look like_ that_! That's silly!"

"I just grew really fast," Amaranta shrugged. "I found it kind of odd how Draco grew so slow, but I figured he was an odd one. Is that weird?"

"Yes, very weird," Harry said. "But you don't sound like a five year old."

"Maybe they used some kind of spell to make her grow faster," Hermoine suggested. "I've seen that used for plants, but it's been too dangerous to use on a human. You never know what part might grow faster. They were just eager for her to grow up to pass as a teenager so she could spy on Harry."

"That might be it," Harry said, relieved. He was afraid she was. . .not human.

* * *

Harry was glad that he had stopped Amaranta and talked with her. All the previous tension had died away. However, the dreaded O.W.L.'s had come at last. Their written exams were in the morning and their practicals in the afternoon. Harry felt that he did reasonably on the written exam for Charms, it was the practical that he had to worry about. He never was very good.

He had used a Gowth Charm instead of a Color-Changing Charm, causing the rat he was supposed to be turning orange to grow to the size of a boxer. He didn't dare tell Hermoine his mistake, but he could tell Ron and Amaranta though. Ron had turned his dinner plate into a mushroom with no idea how he had done it.

"That's nothing," Amaranta said, with a blush. "I accidentally turned my rat into a monkey which threw the plates at my examiner. Even if I levitated my dishes well, I'm definitely going to get failed for that."

"But turning a rat into a monkey is a difficult charm," Ron protested. "I can only change them into smaller animals, not bigger ones. I think they'll realize how good you are."

"Or how dangerous," Amaranta said with a heavy sigh. "Even if you're a good witch or wizard, if you make a mistake, you can seriously injure, or even kill someone! Let's just be glad the monkey didn't get a hold of the knives Hannah Abbot was trying to levitate."

Harry was taking his Astronomy test one night when he saw something in the corner of his eye. Pretending to write something down on his star chart, he looked over the edge of the Astronomy Tower. Umbridge was walking along the grounds along with five others. Someone's coughing reminded him he was half-way through an exam, and he peeked back through his telescope. Before he could mark Venus's location, he heard a distant knocking noise, followed by the bellowing of a large dog.

Fear pumping his heart, he looked over the edge of the tower. The light's in Hagrid's windows were on, and he could see sillouhettes of six people before the door was closed. There was a loud roar, and several kids turned away from their telescopes to see what the noise was.

"Twenty minutes to go," Professor Tofty said, and several people, including Hermoine returned to their telescopes.

There was a loud _BANG!_ and all the kids were gaping at Hagrid's hut. The door had burst open and Hagrid was easily visible in the light that pooled onto him. Six figures were holding their wands at him, threads of red light zipping past him. Their attempts to Stun him were useless, his giant body tackling past them. Fang attempted to protect his master, and he was holding back the strangers, until he was caught by a Stunning Spell. Hagrid roared with fury and picked up the culprit, chucking him into the other perpetrators.

"Look!" cried Parvati, pointing towards the entrance hall.

The door swung open and a lone black shadow walked across the grounds towards the fight.

"We're in the middle of an examination, you know!" Professor Tofty told them all, but no one was paying him the slightest attention.

"How dare you!" the figure shouted. "How _dare_ you!"

"It's McGonagall!" Hermoine exclaimed.

"Leave him alone!" said Professor McGonagall. "On what grounds are you attacking him? He has done nothing to warranta such -"

Hermoine, Parvati, and Lavender screamed. Four Stunners had sent their red jets of light squarely in Professor McGonagall's chest. For a moment, she was surrounded by an eerie red glow, before she collapsed onto the floor and lay immobile.

"Boxing Boggarts!" Professor Tofty shouted.

"YOU RUDDY COWARDS!" Hagrid shouted, swinging his massive fists. "HAVE SOME O'THAT! AN' THAT!"

Two of Hagrid's closest attackers were knocked out cold by his swinging hams of fists. He went to Fang's limp body and lugged it over his back as he began to run towards the gates.

"After him!" Umbridge ordered, but everyone seemed reluctant to get anywhere near Hagrid.

The other three tripped over themselves, trying to back up too fast. Umbridge tried, in vain, to Stun Hagrid one last time, but it missed, and he disappeared into the darkness.

The silence after that was absolute. No one seemed to register Professor Tofty's warn of the last five minutes. Even though Harry had only filled over a half of his star chart, he couldn't wait for the exam to be over. As all of the kids dashed down the spiral staircase, they all talked excitedly about what they had just witnessed.

"That evil, vile woman!" Hermoine cried in rage, tears showing in her eyes. "How dare she! Sneaking up on Hagrid like that! And Professor McGonagall!"

"Amaranta," Harry turned to the girl. "How come you look so calm?"

"Oh, I do?" She raised her eyebrows. Lately, she had been resorting back to her poker face, but it felt natural for her. "I'm sorry. It's not that I don't care about Professor Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. I'm just used to seeing much worse."

Harry had almost forgotten that she had grown up in nothing but Death Eater's company. It was a miracle she didn't turn out like them. Maybe it was Malfoy's influence. . .

* * *

"I dont need. . .I'm not going to the hospital wing. . .I don't want to. . ." Harry muttered, waving off Professor Tofty.

He had just collapsed, screaming, in the middle of his History of Magic exam. Not that he could tell Professor Tofty, but he had just seen his godfather, Sirius Black, being torture by Voldermort in the Department of Mysteries! He had been seeing into Voldermort's mind more and more recently. He had witnessed Ron's father being attacked by a giant snake, and now he had just witnessed his godfather suffering a similar fate!

"I'm f-fine, sir," Harry stammered, breathing heavily. "Just had a nightmare. . ."

"Perfectly understandable," Professor Tofty nodded. "Do you think you can go back to the Great Hall and round off your answer?"

"Yes," Harry nodded, but then shook his head. "No, I think. . .I think I've written enough. . ."

"Very well," the old wizard smiled sympathetically. "I'll go collect your examination paper. You go and have a nice lie down. . ."

"I'll do that," Harry nodded, still breathing hard. "Thanks."

He waited for the bell to ring, and he heard the distant shuffle of students. Quickly, he ran to find his friends, Ron and Hermoine. "Come with me," he said urgently, pulling them along. "I've got to tell you something. . ."

He led them to an empty classroom on the first floor, closing the door behind him, and facing the other two.

"Voldermort's got Sirius."

"_What?_"

He told them all he had seen about Harrry collapsing during his examination, and Voldermort torturing Sirius.

"So how are we going to get there?" he asked them.

There was a moments silence before Ron said stupidly, "G-get there?"

"Get to the Department of Mysteries to rescue Sirius!" Harry said, aggrivated at them for being so dim-witted.

"But-Harry. . ." Ron said meagerly.

"What?" Harry snapped at him.

"Harry," Hermoine tried to speak in her least nagging tone of voice. "Um. . .How did Lord Voldermort. . .er. . .get into the Department of Mysteries without anyone realizing it?"

"How am I supposed to know?" he said angrily. "I want to know how _we're _going to get there."

"Harry, how could Voldermort have gotten Sirius when he's been in Grimmauld Place all this time?" Hermoine countered.

"Maybe Sirius cracked and went outside," Ron suggested.

"But why one Earth would Voldermort use Sirius of all people?" Hermoine said desperately. "He's been using him as a scape-goat to keep his rise to power hidden."

"Hermoine, Harry's seen them!" Ron rounded on her.

"Ok, then," Hermoine said carefully. "I've only got to say this. . .Don't you think. . .What I mean to say is. . .Don't you have this. . ._hero-complex_?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry said dangerously.

Hermoine shrunk in fear. "I mean. . .you. . .like in the Triwizard Tournament. . .you saved that little Delacour girl. . .you didn't have to. . .I don't mean it's a bad thing. . .it was a splendid thing to do. . .everyone thought you were wonderful. . ."

"So you think I'm _acting the hero_, huh?" Harry glared angrily. "You reckon I want to be the hero again?"

"No!" Hermoine looked shocked. "That's not what I meant at all!"

"Then spit out what you're trying to say."

"I'm trying to say that Lord Voldermort knows you, Harry. He used Ginny to lure you to the Chambr of Secrets. He knows you're the kind of person who'd come to Sirius's aid! What if this is what he wants you to do?"

"It doesn't matter if he's done this to get me there or not!" Harry wanted to strangle her. "If I don't go, Sirius is dead! There's no one left from the Order in Hogwarts to tell!"

"But Harry-"

The door suddenly opened, and Ginny and Luna came walking in. "We heard your voice and wanted to see what you were yelling about," Ginny said.

"Never you mind," Harry snapped.

"You don't have to take that tone with me," Ginny said calmly. "I was just wondering if I could help."

"Yes, you were being quite rude," Luna added.

Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't want to bother with these two right now.

"Harry, maybe they _can_ help," Hermoine said. "We need to establish whether Sirius really left headquarters-"

"I told you-"

"Hary, I'm beggin you! Please!" Hermoine pleaded. "Let's just check and see if Sirius is home. If he's not. . .then I'll help you all I can!"

"How are we going to check?" Harry demanded.

"Umbridge's fire," Hermoine answered. "We'll see if we can contact him. We can draw Umbridge away again, but we'll need lookouts. That's where these two come in."

"Ok, but who will be the distraction?"

"I'll do it," Ron volunteered. "I'll tell her Peeves is smashing things up in the Transfiguration department. In fact, I could probably convince Peeves to do it on the way there."

"Okay," Hermoine said, pacing the room, her mind working furiously. "Well then, Harry. You and I can check if Sirius is home under the Invisibility Cloak. Even with all that, I think we'll only get five minutes."

"That'll be enough," said Harry. "Ok, let's go."

"Now?"

"Yes, now," Harry said sternly. "Siruis is being tortured this very minute! We can't wait till nightfall or something!"

"Well, okay, then," Hermoine said. "You go get the Invisibility Cloak and we'll meet you at the end of Umbridge's corridors."


	12. Escaping With Amaranta

**A/N: **Whoot! No Homework! No homework. (Our team lost the football game,) but no homework! Anywho, enjoy this next chapter.

Disclaimer: All credits go to J. K. Rowling.

**Escaping With Amaranta **

Draco Malfoy hated Harry Potter. This was a fact he knew to be true. There was just something he never really understood. Why did he hate him? He felt like he should. After all, this boy was his mortal enemy, and also the idol of his crush's affection. That's reason enough to hate him, right? Draco shook these thoughts out of his head. There was no need to be thinking about that now as he took Potters wand from his chest pocket, as Umbridge had ordered.

"I want to know why you are in my office?" Umbridge said, holding Potter by the hair.

"I was trying to get my Firebolt," he fibbed.

"Liar!" Umbridge shouted, shaking his head, so that a few of Potter's hairs were parting from his head. "We both know you had your head in my fire! Well, who was it? Who were you communicating with? Albus Dumbledore?"

"No one," Harry said through gritted teeth.

"LIAR!" Umbridge shouted and threw him so that his head met with her desk in a very ungraceful fashion.

Malfoy smirked wider. Something he knew for sure, Potter in pain always made him feel giddy. Maybe he didn't need to know why he hated this boy and just hate him. That made things so much simpler. Malfoy turned head when he saw his Slytherin friends holding back those pesky Gryffindor and that crazy Loony Lovegood. Now, all who had ever opposed him, Ron Weasley, and his filthy sister Ginny, Longbottom, Granger, Lovegood, and, of course, Potter were now all at his mercy. He wouldn't lie. It felt good.

Umbridge smiled at the sight of the struggling children. "Well, it seems Hogwarts will be Weasley-free very soon," she scoffed.

Draco let out an obnoxious laugh. The thought of those Weasels finally out of here made him feel twenty pounds lighter.

"You're friends are all captured, Mr. Potter," she spat at him, not even bothering to keep her voice sweet and girly. "There's no one left to help you now. So tell me, who were you talking to?"

"It's none of your business who I talk to," Potter snarled at her.

Umbridge didn't look all too happy at his continued opposition. "Very well," her voice was now so dipped in sugar that Malfoy could feel his blood pressure rise. "You leave me no choice, Mr. Potter. I have no alternative but to force you. Draco, fetch Professor Snape."

Malfoy soon returned with his favorite Slytherin teacher. "You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" he looked around at all of the struggling children with complete indifference.

"Ah Professor Snape," Umbridge smiled widely. "I would like another bottle of Veritaserum to interrogate Mr. Potter, here."

"You already took my last bottle, to interrogate Potter last week," Professor Snape said coolly. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you three drops would be sufficient."

Umbridge flushed angrily. "You can make some more, can't you?" her voice was nearing the danger point.

"Certainly," Snape's eyes were becoming even more icy. "It takes a full moon cycle to mature, so I'd have it to you in a month."

"A month?!" Umbridge yelled. "But I need it this evening, Snape! I have just discovered Potter using my fire to communicate with someone!"

"Really?" Snape showed the first slight interest in all of this. "Potter never did respect the rules."

"I wish to interrogate him!" Umbridge told him again.

"I have already told you," Snape gave a slight sigh of annoyance. "It takes a month to-"

"You're on probation!" Umbridge squawked at him. "You are being deliberately unhelpful! Lucius Malfoy always spoke so highly of you. I'm ashamed. Now get out of my office!"

Draco was getting bored with this daft woman's shouting and power-crazed rants, until Potter shouted something very peculiar.

"He's got Padfoot!" Potter shouted desperately to Professor Snape. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it is hidden!"

Snape froze, before he could open the door. Umbridge glanced between the two, full of curiosity. "Padfoot?" Umbridge said. "What's Padfoot? Where what is hidden? what does he mean, Snape?"

"I have no idea," Professor Snape looked at him inscrutably and turned around, and left.

Umbridge seemed to have bought his answer, but Draco was more curious. Why had Potter just shouted something so random at his worst enemy? It made no sense. It must've been code for something, but why tell Professor Snape of all people. Draco was snapped back from his thoughts when he heard Granger scream, "No, Professor Umbridge, that's illegal! The Minister wouldn't want you to break the law!"

"What Cornelius doesn't know, won't hurt him," Umbridge said stiffly, she was pointing her wand at Potter's head. "You won't wriggle out of this one, Potter! _Cruc-_"

"NO!" Granger shouted, tears in her eyes. "Harry, we'll have to tell her! She'll get the answer out of you anyway. . .what's the point. . .?" Tears were pouring from her eyes, and Millicent Bulstrode, who had been holding her up against the wall, shrank back from her, looking disgusted.

"Well, well, well," Professor Umbridge smiled victoriously. "Looks like Little Miss Know-It-All is finally going to give us some answers! Come on then!"

"Hermoine, no!" Weasley shouted through his busted lip.

"I'm sorry, everyone, but. . .I can't stand it," said Granger. "We were trying to contact Professor Dumbledore, but we don't know where he is. We tried the Leaky Cauldron, the Three Broomsticks and even the Hog's Head-"

"Stupid girl!" Umbridge shrieked, disappointment painted on her face. "Dumbledore would not be sitting in some pub when the whole Ministry's looking for him!"

"But-we needed to tell him it's ready!" Granger wailed.

"What's ready?"

"The. . .weapon," Granger said.

Umbridge seemed to explode with excitement. "A weapon? You have been developing some form of resistance against the Ministry? On Dumbledore's orders, of course?"

"Y-yes," gasped Granger. "We don't r-r-really understand it. We just did what Professor Dumbledore told us to do. . ."

Draco was paying full attention for the first time. The thought of a powerful weapon in his hands. The power he could have. . .

"Lead me to the weapon, girl," Umbridge ordered excitedly. "Just you and me. We'll take Potter along too, shall we?"

"Professor Umbridge, I think some of the Inquisitorial Squad should come with you," he said hopefully.

"I am a fully qualified Ministry Official, Malfoy, do you really believe I cannot manage two wandless kids alone?" she snapped at him sharply. "It doesn't seem like this weapon is something schoolchildren should see, anyways. You will remain here and make sure none of these brats escape."

"Alright," Draco backed down, disappointed.

"Lead on," she shoved her wand into Granger and Potter's backs as they walked out of the office.

Draco waited lazily, sitting in Professor Umbridge's large armchair, spinning about. Because he was spinning around, he didn't notice the flicker of hair near the office window. None of the Slytherins seemed to notice the small tip of wand that lay silently, like a snake ready to strike its prey. Without warning, a small stream of red light struck the sixth-year girl holding Ginny Weasley. The Slytherin girl fell to the floor in a heap, and the others turned to look to see what happened.

The Gryffindors, however, took this chance to revolt upon their attackers. Ginny shot a Bat-Bogey hex at Loony's captor, while Draco, realizing they were under attack, hid behind Umbridge's office chair. Soon the office was a battlefield, with the surprised Slytherins falling left and right, no one really knowing who caused it.

Draco was hoping he would go unnoticed, until he heard them all exclaim, "Amaranta! What are you doing here?!"

He flicked his head around from behind the armchair, and sure enough Amaranta sat on the windowsill, broom in her hand. When did she learn to fly?

"I came to rescue you all," she said, her face calm and blank. "I heard the shouting when I was walking down the hall, and I. . .just couldn't ignore it."

His heart skipped a beat, when her eyes flashed in his direction. She fell to the floor, and held her wand out towards him. "I'd like to say I'm sorry, Draco, but that would be a lie," she said before he was met with a Stunning spell.

While Draco lay unconscious, Amaranta and the others quickly ran down to the grounds, where they met up with Harry and Hermoine. They gave them back their wands, which they had retrieved from their Slytherin enemies. Harry looked at their battle-worn faces and even more at Amaranta's unmarked one.

"How'd you guys get out of there?" he asked Ron.

"Amaranta rescued us," he said. "Well, she knocked out that girl holding Ginny, and then we took care of the rest. Oh, but she hit Malfoy straight in the face with a Stunning Spell! That's gotta hurt! What've you done with Umbridge?"

"She got carried away by a herd of centaurs," Harry said.

"So, has You-Know-Who got Sirius or-?"

"Yes," said Harry impatiently. "And I'm sure he's still alive, so we need to leave now!"

"Well, we'll have to fly, won't we?" Luna said in a matter-of-fact tone. "The thestrals have a great sense of direction, I'm sure they can help." Luna pointed over Harry's shoulder, and he turned around to see two of the winged horse zombies watching them from in between two of the trees. Soon more followed.

"Ok, fine, we'll get on the thestrals, but its too dangerous for you four," Harry said to Ginny, Neville, Luna, and Amaranta. "You have nothing to do with this. . ."

"Oh, I think we have plenty to do with it now," Ginny said angrily. "And I'm as worried about Sirius as you are, ya'know!"

"This is different!" Harry protested. "It's too-"

He stopped when Amaranta pointed her wand at him. "I'm going," she said, almost angrily. "Ron explained everything to me. If the Dark Lord is there, then I want to have a chat with him. I. . .want to break free from him once and for all."

Harry looked nervously at her wand, but then gave in. The others gave small cheers as Luna, Harry, and Amaranta helped the others mount the thestrals.

The Ministry was strangely empty. It's usual hustling crowd seemed to have magically vanished, leaving it deserted. Harry looked down the hall of the Department of Mysteries, staring at a door he had seen so many times in his dreams. With a jolt in his stomach, the plain black door swung open, and they entered a circular room. He followed the steps in his dream, walking purposefully toward the door opposite from where they had come. The others followed him, sticking close together in the darkly lit corridors.

"This it!" he cried excitedly, instantly recognizing the room from his dreams. He passed through rows of desks, the room dark. There was a strange blue glow coming from a crystal bell jar with an egg inside of it. Harry ignored it as he walked quickly through the room. There was only one door.

His heart pounded in his head. "It's through here," he told them, gripping his wand tightly as he pushed the door open easily.

They had found the right place. The chamber was as high as a cathedral with towering shelves of nothing, but dusty, glass orbs. The light reflected upon them dimly from the few candles that lit the chamber. He was jogging now, eager to get to the right spot. In his dream, they had been standing at row ninety-seven, the others following him cautiously.

He stopped when he finally found the row and looked down its lonesome row. There was nothing there.

"He's right down the row," Harry said, "You can't see him properly from here. Come on."

He led them down the end of the row, but there was only them standing there. He looked around. they were completely alone. "He should be around. . .here. . ." He began to look frantically past the shelves.

"Harry?" Ron said, he was staring at one of the glass orbs. "Have you seen this? It's got your name on it, mate."

"What?" Harry turned curiously to stand next to Ron. He looked up and tried to read the yellow label beneath the dusty orb. In spidery writing it said:

_S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D. _

_Dark Lord _

_and (?)Harry Potter_

He glanced along the other shelves, but none of the other's names were there.

"I don't think you should touch it, Harry," Hermoine said sharply when he reached out his hand to grab it.

"Why not?" he said. "It's got my name on it."

Feeling reckless, he closed his fingers around the dusty orb. He had expected it to feel cold, but on the contrary, it was radiating warmth, as if a light within had been heating it for hours. He had expected something dramatic to happen. Some flashing lights and colors, or a mystical creature to come out of it, but nothing whatsoever happened. The others moved in closer to star at the dusty orb.

And then, a familiar voice from behind them said, "Very good, Potter. Now turn around and give that to me."


	13. Dying With Amaranta

**A/N: **EEE GASP! I bet you're all looking at the chapter and screaming your heads off, (well, maybe only a teensy few). The secrets are revealed! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

**Dying With Amaranta **

"M-Mr. Malfoy," Amaranta's shivering voice alerted them all to the owner of the drawling voice. They all flicked around. Lucius Malfoy was not alone. Several other Death Eaters were behind him, in their black hoods, their faces obscured by masks.

"Give it to me, Potter," Lucius Malfoy said, holding out his hand.

Harry felt his stomach tickle his knees.

"To me," Lucius repeated.

"Where's Sirius?" Harry said.

All of the Death Eaters laughed. The harsh voice of a female from Harry's left said, "The Dark Lord always knows!"

"Always," Malfoy agreed. "Now, hand the prophecy to me, Potter."

"Hey, isn't that the Amaranta girl?" One of the taller Death Eaters said.

Harry looked back around to see Amaranta's face blank, but pale. He knew she must be terrified right now.

"All the better," Lucius said, smirking. "The Dark Lord was just about to retrieve her anyway."

"Retrieve me?" Amaranta echoed. "What do you mean? He was going to wait until the end of the school term."

"How dare she speak so proudly!" the female voice shouted in rage. "She is but a filthy, low creature! She should grovel at the Dark Lord's feet for letting her live, if even for this long!"

"She is not the issue at hand," Lucius reminded them. "Now, Potter had me the prophecy."

"I know Sirius is here," Harry said, though his heart was racing in his head.

More of the Death Eaters laughed, though the woman laughed most of all.

"It's time you learned the difference between dreams and reality, Potter," Lucius Malfoy said. "Now hand me the Prophecy, or we start using wands."

"Go on then," Harry said, holding his own wand level with his chest. As he did that, the six other wands of his friends rose with him. Fear gripped him. If Sirius was not here, he had just led them all to their deaths.

No one moved.

"Hand over the prophecy and no one need get hurt," Malfoy said coolly.

"Yeah, right!" Harry scoffed. "I hand you the-prophecy, is it? And you'll just let us go?"

"Get the little girl," the hood of the woman fell over to reveal her face: Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry could feel Neville tense next to him. "We'll see how he acts when we torture the little girl!"

Harry could see the Death Eaters slowly close around Ginny, and he had to think fast. _They_ wanted the prophecy; _he _just wanted to get out of here. He had to do something. . .

"If you want this" he held up the glass orb, "in one piece, I recommend you back off. I don't think Voldermort would be pleased if you came back empty-handed, would he?"

The Death Eater's all let out a low hiss.

"You dare speak his name!" Bellatrix hissed.

"Yeah," Harry said confidently, as he felt himself gain a foothold over his enemies. "I've got no problem saying Vol-"

"Shut your filthy mouth!" Bellatrix shrieked. "You are unworthy to speak his name, to smear his honor with your half-blood tongue, you dare-"

"Did you know he's a half-blood, too?" Harry said, smirking. "His mother was a witch, but his dad was a Muggle-or has he been telling you all that he's pureblood?"

"_STUPE-" _

"NO!"

A stream of red light had shot out from Bellatrix's wand, but Lucius Malfoy had deflected it. Her spell bounced off of his and collided with a few of the glass orbs on one of the shelves.

Pearly white ghosts unfurled out of the shattered remnants of the glass orbs, but their voices clashed with one another, so that only pieces of their speech could be deciphered.

"Do not attack!" Lucius Malfoy shouted at Lestrange. "We need the prophecy!"

"He dares-!" Bellatrix Lestrange shook with fury. "He dares besmirch our lord's name! The filthy half-blood!"

While they argued, Harry slowly moved his foot back, looking for someone else. He succeeded and stepped on someone's toes. The sharp intake of breath revealed to him that it was Hermoine's.

"What?" she whispered.

Hardly moving his lips, Harry answered in a low hiss. "_Smash the shelves when I saw go._"

He could feel Hermoine tell the others. He noticed the Malfoy had quite forgotten about Bellatrix and now turned his eyes upon Potter. "You still haven't told me what this prophecy is about," Harry said when he feared Malfoy had noticed movement in the ranks behind him.

"Don't play games with me, Potter," Malfoy sneered. "You know very well that you hold the reason to why you bare that scare."

"I-what?" Harry had almost forgotten bout the plan, he now refocused. "What about my scar?"

"Dumbledore never told you, did he?" Malfoy continued on. "That explains why you didn't come earlier. The Dark Lord wondered why. . . He thought natural curiosity would bring you here."

"So, he wanted me to come get it," Harry put two and two together. "Why?"

_"Why?"_ Lucius reiterated. "Because the only people who can retrieve the prophecy are those about whom it was made."

"So what's he want with a prophecy about me?" Harry vied for time.

"About both of you, Potter," Malfoy said. "Haven't you ever wondered why the Dark Lord tried to kill you as a baby?"

"So he's made me come and get it," Harry said. "Why couldn't he get it himself?"

"Get it himself?!" Bellatrix shrieked, laughing madly. "The Dark Lord walk into the Ministry of Magic when they are so kindly ignoring his return? The Dark Lord would not-"

" NOW!" Harry yelled, and six voices shouted "_REDUCTO!"_ Six curses flew in different directions, and the shelves exploded on contact. The tall, swaying shelves began to clamber down, thousands of glass orbs shattering to small, glittering pieces.

" RUN!" Harry ordered at the top of his lungs, as he dashed forward, the others following. A Death Eater attempted to stop Harry, but he elbowed him in the face. They continued to sprint forward, the Death Eaters hot on their trail.

Harry heard Ginny's scream, but before he could turn around to help her, he heard Amaranta's quiet, but defined voice, "_Stupefy!"_

He turned around the corner, and he could see the door from which they came right ahead. He pushed as far as he could, clambering through the doorway, and he could hear the others follow after him. Hermoine wheeled around and pointed her wand at the shut doorway. _"Colloportus!" _The door sealed itself shut.

He looked around him, but only saw Hermoine and Neville. "Where are the others?" Harry gasped, still trying to catch his breath.

"They must've gone the wrong way!" Hermoine said, horror stricken."

"What do we do?" Neville asked.

"Well, we won't stand here, waiting for them to find us," said Harry. "Let's get away from this door."

They ran, as quietly as they could, toward the exit into the circular room from whence they came. They were almost there, when a loud _thud!_ came from the door which Hermoine had just previously charmed shut.

"Stand aside," commanded a deep voice. _"Alohommora!" _

As the door flew open, Harry, Hermoine, and Neville dived under the desks. They could see the hems of two Death Eater robes drawing nearer with every step.

"Check under the desks," said the deep voice.

As they got passed Harry's and Neville's desk, they pointed their wands at them, and both cried, _"Stupefy!"_

Their spells collided with the two Death Eaters, and they fell to the ground. The kids crawled out form under their desks and ran to each other. Before they could say anything, a scream, followed by a loud crash was heard from the next room.

"RON?" Harry shouted, turning towards the exit. "GINNY? AMARANTA? LUNA?"

When he heard footsteps coming from the Hall of Prophecy, he knew that he should not have shouted and given away their position.

"Come on," he pulled the other two along.

They walked down the black hallway, away from the office, which was now eerily deserted. When he had reached the circular room, he had noticed that something looked different. The room had rotated while they were gone. All the identical black doors loomed at him, and he could not remember from what door they came.

"So, which way d'you reckon-?"

Before they could say anything, a door to their right sprang open and four people clambered out of it.

"Ron!" Harry exclaimed. "Ginny-are you alright?"

The young Weasley girl was clutching her ankle, in a sitting position on the floor.

"What happened?" he asked Luna.

"Four of them went after us," Luna answered dreamily. "We were in this dark room. We floated along most of the time. Anyway, one of them grabbed her ankle, and I used the Reductor curse on him, but. . .I think it's broken. I heard a crack."

She looked hopelessly at Ginny, who was breathing in shallow breaths, tears in her eyes.

Harry looked over the four. Luna had a scratch over her face, her hair was disheveled. Ron had a busted lip and blood was trickling down the corner of his mouth. Amaranta, however, looked strangely unharmed, but Harry knew that she received more mental damage, though. She was paler than normal, and shaking. It had been engraved into her brain to fear and obey these people. When she came with Harry, she hadn't been expecting to go up against a bunch of Death Eaters. None of them had.

"We've got to get out of here," Harry said, hectically. "Luna, can you help Ginny?"

"Yes," Luna nodded.

Ginny grasped Luna for support and Harry looked around. They had a one in twelve chance of getting the right door.

They were within three feet of one door, when another door burst open, and three Death Eaters sped into the hall.

"There they are!" Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked.

Stunning spells shot across the room and Harry dashed into the door ahead of him. He was traveling down stone steps, hopping down them as fast as he could. He soon reached a large, open chamber with a dais in the middle, sporting a large archway with a curtain billowing eerily, although there was no wind. He ran on to the dais and looked around, the glass prophecy miraculously unbroken in his hand. The room was filled with the Death Eaters laughter. His heart sunk when he noticed that each of the Death Eaters was holding one of his friends hostage, they struggled fruitlessly.

"Potter, it's over," drawled Lucius Malfoy, as he held out his hand. "Now hand me the prophecy."

"Let the others go, and I'll give it to you!" Harry said desperately.

The Death Eaters all gave a hearty chuckle.

"You're in no position to bargain, Potter," Lucius Malfoy sneered.

"This is Longbottom, isn't it?" Bellatrix held up Neville in a full nelson, her face filled with glee. "I had the pleasure of meeting your parents. Listen up, Potter! Give us the prophecy or I'll let Longbottom relive his parents' legacy."

" DON'T GIVE IT TO THEM!" Neville shouted, struggling against Bellatrix's grasp.

Bellatrix raised her wand. "_Crucio!"_

Neville let out a tortured scream, and his body flung about. Bellatrix let him fall to the ground where he writhed and screamed in agony.

"That was just the appetizer," Bellatrix smirked, raising her wand so that Neville's screams ceased. "Now, Potter, give us the prophecy or watch your friend die the hard way!"

Harry had no time to think. There was no choice. He held his hand out, the prophecy warm from his body heat.

"Harry, no!" Hermoine cried.

Malfoy jumped to take it.

But then five more decided to join the party. Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Moody, and Kingsley ran down the stairs. Malfoy turned to raise his wand, but Tonks had already sent a Stunning Spell at him. Harry quickly leapt off the dais, clutching the prophecy tightly in his hands. The Death Eaters had to release their hostages in order to defend themselves against the spells now raining on them from the Order members that were descending.

The room was utter chaos. Different colored jets of light streamed across the room, over Harry's head as he pressed his body against the floor and crawled to Neville.

"Are you ok?" he asked him.

"Yeah, I'm alright," Neville said, before rolling out of the way, just in time to avoid a red jet of light.

Harry turned around to see Dolohov, one of the Death Eaters raise his wand at Neville. _"Tarantellegra!"_ he shouted, and Neville's feet tripped himself, causing him to fall face down on the floor. "Now, Potter," he said and made a slashing movement with his wand.

Harry quickly called out, "_Protego!"_ He felt something slice his cheek, but the sheer force of the spell sent him hurtling backwards.

Dolohov pointed his wand a Harry, once more. _"Accio Proph-" _

Sirius came hurtling out of nowhere and rammed Dolohov with his shoulder. Now Sirius was dueling with Dolohov, their wands slashing like swords, sparks flying everywhere.

_"Petrificus Totalus!" _Harry called, and Dolohov's body became limp.

"Nice one!" Sirius called. "Now, I want you to take Neville and the prophecy, and get out of here!"

Sirius looked up to see Tonks tumble down the stares, her limp body reaching the floor, with Bellatrix looking triumphant. "Run," Sirius said, as he chased after Bellatrix.

Harry heaved Neville's arm over his shoulder. "Can you stand?" Harry asked him.

Neville nodded his head, but Harry pulled him down to avoid a jet of green light. In doing so, the prophecy slipped out of his hand and crashed onto the floor. A pearly white figure, with large, round eyes arose, unnoticed by all but them, rose into their air. It's words were unheard through all the clamor and noise of battle, and soon, its faded away.

"_Dumbledore!"_ Neville suddenly shouted.

"What?" Harry looked at his astonished face.

"DUMBLEDORE!"

Harry turned to look where Neville was staring. Standing in the doorway stood Albus Dumbledore, face white and furious, his wand aloft. Harry felt his hair stand on end. They were saved! Dumbledore sped down the steps, and his arrival spread like a wave amongst the battlefield. The Death Eaters began to run for their lives. Only one couple seemed unaware of the new arrival.

Sirius dodged Bellatrix's jet of red light, laughing. The second light hit him squarely in the chest, but his laughter hadn't died from his face. His body seemed to take forever to fall from the top of the steps into the ragged veil that graced the stone archway. Harry heard Bellatrix's triumphant scream. But Sirius had just fallen through the archway, Harry told himself. He would reappear any second on the other side.

But Sirius did not reappear.

"SIRIUS!" Harry bellowed, and dashed for the dais. "SIRIUS!"

He felt Lupin hold him back. "There's nothing you can do, Harry-"

"We've got to save him! He's only just gone through, we can still bring him back!"

"There's nothing you can do, Harry. He's gone."

"He is not gone!" Harry struggled, his throat was beginning to feel sore.

"He can't come back, Harry," Lupin said in a sympathetic voice. "He's d-"

"HE IS NOT DEAD!" Harry yelled, but even as he said so, some part of him realized that Lupin was right. Sirius was never coming back. He would never be waiting for him.

Dumbledore had all the other Death Eaters rounded up by now in the side of the room, seemingly immobile by invisible ropes. Bellatrix was half-way out the door by now.

"Harry-no!" Lupin called out, but Harry had already ripped out from Lupin's slackened grip.

"SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" Harry bellowed. "I'LL KILL HER!"

He followed after her until he found himself in the Atrium. She was almost to the telephone lift by now but as he sprinted after her, she turned around and aimed a spell at him. He dodged behind the Fountain of Magical Brethren. She had stopped running now.

"_Come out, come out, little Harry!"_ she called in a mocking voice. Her voice echoed across the empty chamber. "I thought you were going to avenge my dear cousin."

"I am!" Harry shouted and a chorus of other Harry's mimicked his voice.

"Aaaah. . .did you _love_ him, little baby Potter?"

Harry had never felt such hatred in himself before. He rose from behind the fountain and shouted, "_Crucio!"_

Bellatrix screamed, the spell knocking her off her feet, but she did not cry in pain as Neville had done. She was on her feet in a moment, breathless. "Never used an Unforgivable Curse, have you, boy?" she abandoned the baby voice. "You need to _mean _them, Potter! You need to really want to cause them pain! Your righteous anger won't hurt me for long! I'll teach you how it' done."

Harry's reflexes weren't fast enough to dodge the spell that Bellatrix was sending at him, but he heard another voice shout _"Levicorpus!"_ just as Bellatrix had said her curse, sending Harry flying away from the fountain. He flicked around to see Amaranta running towards him, her wand raised, and her face sure. She was no longer shivering and cowering as she was before, she looked ready to last a siege. Ready to attack.

"Sorry about that," she said as she helped him up. "But it didn't look like you'd have made it. And trust me, those things hurt when they come from her."

"I'm fine," Harry reassured her, as he got to his feet and glared at Bellatrix.

"_Oh! _Has your girlfriend come to help you then?" she reapplied her mocking voice. "Even with this weak creature, you can't defeat me! She is nothing! You fear me, don't you, _girl!_"

"Not anymore," Amaranta said defiantly, her wand never falling from Bellatrix's direction.

Bellatrix gave an amused snort. "Give me the prophecy, Potter, and I just might spare you and your girlfriend's lives!"

"Well, you'll just have to kill us," Harry shouted over to her. "Because it's gone." He winced as his scar seared. "And your precious Voldermort knows."

"What? What do you mean?" fear finally licked Bellatrix's voice.

"The prophecy was smashed when I tried to help Neville," Harry said. "What do you think Voldermort will say about that?"

"LIAR!" Bellatrix shrieked. "GIVE IT TO ME! _Accio Prophecy! ACCIO PROPHECY!"_

Harry laughed, because he knew nothing would ever be summoned. He showed her his empty hands, but then ducked to avoid the green light that she shot at him.

"No!" she screamed. "It isn't true! MASTER, I TRIED! I TRIED! DO NOT PUNISH ME!"

"Don't waste your breath," Harry said, the pain in his scar blurring his vision now. "He can't hear you from here!"

"Can't I, Potter?" said a cold voice from behind him.

Tall, black hooded, white, snake-like face, scarlet pupils. . .Voldermort was standing in front of Harry and Amaranta, who looked as if he had just ripped her heart out.

"Master, I am sorry," Bellatrix brought herself down at Voldermort's feet. "I knew not! I tried."

"Be quiet, Bella!" said Voldermort dangerously. "I didn't come all the way down here to hear your sniveling apologies! I shall deal with you later. Until then, I have more pressing matters to attend to."

His blood red eyes turned on Amaranta, who looked like she just might wet herself, or already had. "Come here, girl," Voldermort ordered.

"Y-y-y-yes, m-m-m-m'lord," she stuttered, fear shaking her entire body, and her foot slowly took the first step.

"Amaranta, no!" Harry called out, raising his wand, but Voldermort flicked his wand lazily at him, sending Harry flying back against the wall, where his body became strangely immobile. "Leave her alone! She has nothing to do with this!"

"Oh, but she does, Potter," Voldermort said as he began to circle the frightened girl, his wand gracing her chin, as he closed, full circle. "She has everything to do with this. I have come to reap the fruits of my _other_ plan."

Harry felt is heart tumble in his stomach, trying to get out, to attack the serpentine man. "What do you mean?"

Voldermort only smiled ruefully. "Since she is here, it seems that she has betrayed me," as he said this Amaranta let out a sharp sob. "But that is of no matter. This only means I get to finish it quicker. You look healthy, Amaranta, very healthy. It seems your Heart Flower has bloomed beautifully."

Since Amaranta looked too afraid to ask the question, Harry did. "Heart Flower? What do you mean?"

"I didn't expect you to figure it out," Voldermort sighed as he looked at Harry as if he were some idiot. "It seems Dumbledore didn't realize it as well, or else he would've put greater protection on her. Well, Potter, I shall enlighten you, and her as well. This _girl _here," he tapped her shivering head with his hand, "is a Blommarian, a species of plant that look and are almost exactly like humans, except for their heart. They do not have the organ, as we do, but a plant, called the Heart Flower. Legend has it that the fruit of a Heart Flower can grant you eternal life. And that," he stopped his predatorily circling of Amaranta as he put his cold hand on her shoulder, as if she'd ever move away, "is what I'm after."

Harry felt his stomach try to crawl out through his mouth as he realized Voldermort's plan. "No!" he yelled, struggling against invisible bonds. "No! Leave her alone! Don't you dare-!"

"You have no right to tell the Dark Lord what he dares!" Bellatrix shouted, but Voldermort called her down.

"Patience, Potter," he said, as he turned to face Amaranta. "I'll kill you next."

Amaranta looked wide-eyed and fearful at the man standing in front of her. His over-bearing presence brought her down to her knees as she gaped up at him, tears filling her eyes, which stared stupidly at the tip of Voldermort's wand.

"P-p-p-p," her stuttering was quiet, but it soon gained voice. "P-please. . .F-f-father. . ."

"Don't call me by such a revolting name!" Voldermort yelled in fury as he waved his wand at her.

"NO!" Harry shouted but it was too late, there was nothing he could do.

With a disgusting gush, her chest burst open, blood splattering all around her. Her body fell back, limp as she stared up at the ceiling, tears still pouring down her face.

If Harry could move his body, he would have covered his mouth to keep himself from puking, but instead, he turned his head to the side so that it spilled next to him. He turned back, reluctantly, to see a plant slowly growing out of Amaranta's open chest at an incredible rate. As soon as it sprouted leaves, the stalk grew up to Voldermort's knees and soft magenta petals unfurled themselves to reveal a round, pink fruit inside, about the size of a good peach.

"Stop it!" Harry cried, completely revolted and angry about what he was doing to her.

Before Voldermort could touch the pink fruit with his slender fingers, the golden statue of the giant wizard had sprung alive, and crashed in between Voldermort and Amaranta's bloody body.

"What the-?" Voldermort looked around and then breathed, "Dumbledore!"

Harry looked over towards the fountain where he saw Dumbledore standing, a horrified but knowing look in his face as he recognized Amaranta's corpse. Voldermort shot a stream of green light at him, but with a whirl of his cloak, he was behind Voldermort, and he waved his wand so the rest of the statues sprung to life. The witch hurtled after Bellatrix, who screamed, and uselessly shot spells at it, and it pinned her down. Meanwhile, the goblin and the House-elf set along the wall by the fireplaces, as the centaur charged at Voldermort, who vanished and reappeared beside the pool.

"It was foolish to come here tonight, Tom," Dumbledore said calmly. "The Aurors are on their way-"

"By which time, I'll be gone and you dead!" spat Voldermort. He sent another killing curse which missed and burst the security guards desk into flames.

Dumbledore waved his wand, but Voldermort conjured a silver shield to block the spell, whatever it was. "You don't seek to kill me, Dumbledore?" Voldermort's scarlet eyes narrowed.

"We both know that there are other ways to destroy a man," Dumbledore said calmly. "I admit, that I am not merely satisfied with taking your life."

"There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!" snarled Voldermort.

He sent another jet of green light towards Dumbledore. The centaur had come galloping in front of Dumbledore, shattering to pieces, but before the pieces had even touched the floor, Dumbledore waved his wand again. A long, thin flame lashed out from the tip of his wand like a whip and wrapped itself around Voldermort. But just as soon as it touched him, the fiery whip became a flaming serpent that turned on Dumbledore at once.

But Dumbledore's wand work was quicker, and the molten snake vanished, and the water from the pool covered Voldermort. The Dark Lord was a rippling dark figure, and then he was no more. Harry knew that he had decided to flee, he could even feel the spell that Voldermort had put on him vanish.

Harry made to run to him, but Dumbledore bellowed, "Stay where you are, Harry!"

Harry was confused at the awkward sound of fear in his voice. Voldermort was gone.

And then Harry's scar burst open. The pain was beyond imagining.

He was wrapped in the coils of a creature, with scarlet eyes, so tightly bound, that Harry did know where his body began and the creature's ended. And when the creature spoke, it used his mouth.

_"Kill me now, Dumbledore. . ." _

The pain was blinding, and all of his body was screaming.

_"If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy. . ."_

_Let the pain stop,_ Harry pleaded wordlessly. _Kill us, Dumbledore! End the pain! Death is nothing compared to this. . .And I'll see Sirius again. . ." _

As Harry's heart filled with emotion, the creature's coil loosened, and the pain was gone. Harry was laying on the Atrium floor, his glasses next to him, his face on the floor, shivering. He slowly raised his head to see Dumbledore only inches from his own.

"Are you all right, Harry?" he handed him back his glasses.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said as he put on his glasses. "Who are all these-?"

He looked around, the Atrium was full of people, all of them screaming at the sight of where Amaranta's bloody corpse had lay open and on the floor. Harry wondered why her body was no longer there. He saw the golden statues of the goblin and the house-elf leading a shocked Cornelius Fudge to them.

"I saw him!" Fudge said, shaking. "Merlin's beard! _HERE?_ At the Ministry of Magic? How can this be?"

"If you proceed downstairs, Cornelius," said Dumbledore smoothly, "into the Department of Mysteries, you'll find several escaped Death Eaters contained in the Death Chamber by a Anti-Disapparation Jinx."

"Dumbledore!" gasped Fudge. "You-here-I-I-you will need to tell me exactly. What happened here?"

"We can discuss this after I have sent Harry back to Hogwarts," Dumbledore said calmly.


	14. Always With Amaranta

**A/N: **So, I've decided: This chapter shall be then end...to Part One! Yes, despite all better judgement, I'm going to prolong this story even more. (After all, the Harry Potter series continues.) But, I just might condense books six and seven together, so that there are only two parts. It depends on how the story goes. (I've got a broad plan, but you never know when I'm sudden;y struck with another epiphany.) Anywho, wait and see how the story progresses.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

** Always With Amaranta**

Harry sat in Dumbledore's office, his head thumping painfully. Two deaths in one night. Why did everyone around him die? And it was all his fault. His parents were killed because he existed, and now Sirius and Amaranta. Because of his stupidity, they had both suffered the consequences of befriending him.

Harry gritted his teeth to fight against the tears. He would not cry; he would not think. He should leave society as soon as possible. If anyone else associated with him, they might die too. Who was next? Ron? Hermoine? Maybe Dumbledore?

The dead fireplace sprung alive with emerald-green flame, and Dumbledore stepped into his office. Many of the wizards and witches in the portraits hanging on the walls uttered cries of welcome.

"Thank you," Dumbledore smiled softly.

He sat down in his comfortable armchair, his old, wizened eyes gleaming sadly behind half-moon spectacles. "You'll be happy to hear, Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "That none of your friends have received permanent damage from tonight's events."

Harry wanted to give some form of recognition, but he couldn't open his mouth. It seemed to him that Dumbledore was reminding him of the consequences of his actions.

"I know how you are feeling, Harry," muttered Dumbledore.

"No, you don't!" Harry suddenly found his voice, and it lashed out at Dumbledore with sudden vivacity.

"See, Dumbledore?" said Phineas Nigellus. "Never try to understand students. They'd rather wallow in self-pity and be tragically misunderstood, than-"

"That's enough, Phineas," Dumbledore said. He turned back to Harry. "There is no shame in what you are feeling. On the contrary, the fact that you feel pain is your greatest strength."

"Strength, is it?" Harry snapped, angry at Dumbledore for his calmness. "You don't know . . . You know nothing. . ."

"What don't I know?" Dumbledore said.

"I don't want to talk about my feelings, alright?" Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Dumbledore only smiled patiently, resting his head on his wizened knuckles. "Harry, suffering like this shows that you are still a man. That you are human-"

"THEN I DON'T WANT TO BE HUMAN!" Harry burst, his eyes felt like they were on fire with the effort to hold his tears back. Dumbledore's calm, patient smile was vexing him. "I DON'T CARE!" He snatched a lunascope and hurled it at the wall. "I DON'T CARE ANYMORE! I WANT IT TO END! I WANT IT TO BE OVER! I DON'T CARE!"

He threw the table next to him against the wall and it broke into pieces. He flew into a fit, smashing anything that came to his raging fingers. He was not holding back the tears now. Anything to alleviate that pain in his throat was much welcomed.

"You do care," Dumbledore had not flinched, still smiling, and watching Harry as he demolished his office. Harry couldn't understand how he could be calm. For a second, he wanted to break the old man's face too.

"I DON'T!" Harry roared.

"Oh, yes, you do" said Dumbledore, unshaken. "You have lost your father, mother, a friend, and the closest thing to a parent you've ever had. Of course you care."

"YOU DON'T KNOW HOW I FEEL!" Harry bellowed. "YOU-STANDING THERE-YOU-"

He couldn't finish his sentence; his throat was burning with the effort. He wanted to get out of there, but that old wizard's calm face made him want to stay and cause a bit more damage.

"You are not nearly as angry with me as you should be," Dumbledore said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "It's _my _fault that Sirius and Amaranta died."

"What are you talking-?"

"Sirius is a brave, energetic, clever man, and such a man is not meant to be confined to a house, especially one as dreary as Grimmauld Place. Nevertheless, you should never have even considered going to the Department of Mysteries tonight. If I had been more open with you, you would have known a long time ago that Voldermort might try to lure you into danger, and you never would've been tricked into going there. And Sirius, along with Amaranta, would not have followed you. Amaranta." Dumbledore hesitated, extreme grief lining his face.

"Amaranta is entirely my fault, Harry," he continued. "I had figured out what she was and Voldermort's plan long before this night."

"WHAT?!" Harry backed away from Dumbledore, ready to break something else. "WHY DIDN'T YOU DO ANYTHING?! WHY DIDN'T YOU PROTECT HER?"

"I tried," Dumbledore said. "Amaranta is a Blommarian, this means that she is not human. She may look human, excluding her heart, which is a fruit-bearing plant. The only way to differentiate Blommarians between normal humans, say Muggles, is to check their surroundings. Blommarian's have a great influence on the vegetation around them, varying with their moods. Professor Sprout told me, that her plants would either die or grow out of control only the classes where Amaranta was present.

"When I realized what she was, I knew that Voldermort must be after her because of the rumor of the fruit born of their Heart Flower will bring one eternal life, immortality, if you will. However, this is not true. The fruit of the Heart Flower will only stop you from aging. Disease or any of the other means of death would not be immune from this change. Though, I don't think Voldermort knows this, or he chooses not to believe it. Either way, Amaranta's life was in danger.

"There is a reason Voldermort only sent her here now. It was not to spy on you, as she may have believed, or they told her. You see, Harry, a Blommarian's Heart Flower cannot bloom in the dark, no flower can. Because of the way she was treated, her heart was shrouded in darkness. He must have tried sending her to the Malfoy's to see if she could feel the right emotions in order to grow. However, that was not enough, so he sent her here, away from Death Eaters and his grasp. As you can guess, because she made friends with you, Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger, her Heart Flower began to bloom. I knew that the happier she was, the shorter her life span would be, so I asked Professor Snape to see if he could keep her from growing. . ."

He suddenly dropped the droopy eyes and looked straight into Harry's green orbs. "I am not proud of what I've done. I have only made Amaranta's life miserable. I would never have hurt her, if the circumstances weren't so dangerous."

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry sat slowly in his chair. "What did you ask Snape to do?"

"I asked him to make a Passion Potion," said Dumbledore, looking frail and old sitting in his armchair. "The Passion Potion increases the emotion one feels tenfold. It's a very old, and obsolete potion, thought to make the first Love Potion, until its true attributes were discovered. Professor Snape administered the potion to young Mr. Malfoy when he was feeling angry, so that he would take out all his rage and jealousy on Amaranta, and hurt her. I knew that Draco's, being her friend, betrayal would be the one thing to make her Heart Flower stop growing, unfortunately, I was too late. She had already blossomed into a beautiful young lady, and I only ruined her. I am sorry, Harry."

Harry couldn't find it in his heart to hate Dumbledore. He wanted to. If not for him, he would have Amaranta and Sirius back, but he knew it was not Dumbledore's fault. If anyone's, it was Voldermort's.

"But there is hope," Dumbledore said as he reached into his pocket and produced the small, round, pink fruit he had seen come out of Amaranta. "Although the fruit cannot grant eternal life for humans, it can for Blommarians. Amaranta is a plant, so if we replant her, she'll spring back up, good as new. She will be reborn, a completely refreshed and renewed Amaranta."

"Are you serious?" Harry shot up out of his chair, knocking it over. "She can really come back?"

"Yes, but there's a catch: she won't remember a thing."

"What do you mean?"

"As I said before, she will be reborn. She will begin a completely separate life, as if she was being born for the first time. She won't remember Voldermort, the Draco, or you."

Harry's heart sank, the light of hope dimming. He wanted to see Amaranta again. If she could just live, maybe some of the guilt would go away.

Dumbledore's elderly face stretched into a smile. "But I found a way for her to remember." He held up glass vial, with silvery wisps inside. "Just before she died, I extracted her memories, and put them in here. When she is reborn, we can give them back to her, if she wants."

Harry beamed. "Yes! Yes! We'll bring her back, and it'll be like she never died! Hurry! Let's plant her!"

Harry wanted to laugh at his last statement. Such an awkward thing to say.

"I'm not sure if Voldermort knows that she can be replanted," Dumbledore said. "He may still be after her. With your permission, I'd like to keep her here, where she will be safe."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Harry said, thinking. "But where will you put her?"

"Oh, I think the Whomping Willow will protect one of its own," Dumbledore said. "She will grow to be quite large, so I can't put her in a pot and keep her in my office. Did you know that the Whomping Willow was created by a Blommarian? Yes, there's a tragic story behind it all. You should ask Miss Granger to look it up for you sometime."

Harry stared at the smoke rising into the clouds. Half the people that went to Amaranta's cremation didn't even know her. Since it got them out of class, he was sure all the kids were eager to go and mourn for their fellow student. He turned to see Hermoine running towards him, a battered book clutched tightly against her chest. He sat up in his chair by the window in the Gryffindor common room.

"I. . .found the book. . .story you wanted. . .in this book," Hermoine spoke between breaths as she pulled up a chair next to him and Ron.

"You mean the one about the Whomping Willow?" Ron asked, as he eyed the bruised book.

"Yes," Hermoine said as she began leafing through the fragile pages. "It's not a popular story. It was hard to find. I wonder why no one would care about the history of the Whomping Willow and this school's past! Ah! Here it is, the Legend of the Tree Whisperer." They all crowded around together as Hermoine read aloud.

"_Back when Hogwarts was still young, in the term of the third Headmaster, Fredrick Hopperhagen, there was a student, a young girl with dazzling blonde hair and piercing green eyes who attended the school. She came from a respectable wizarding family and was a wonderful student who superseded in all of her classes. However, this girl would be one of the few to result in one of the darkest times in Hogwarts history."_

Hermoine glanced sideways at Harry, and then continued to read. "_This girl's name was Dianthe Greene, meaning 'Flower of the Gods.' She had an amazing ability, which she kept secret from others, even her family. She could control the plants around her, bending them to her will, making them grow with merely her thoughts. She is believed to be the first Tree Whisperer. Although this power seemed harmless at first, it could be used for murder. _

_"Dianthe only used her power to improve the plant life around Hogwarts, in the beginning. The fields were green, even in the winter, and the wild flowers spread everywhere. Hogwarts experienced an eternal spring for five years, until she met another girl with a green thumb, Amaranta."_

"What?" Ron exclaimed. "Amaranta? But how-?"

"It could be anyone else," Harry said. "Read on, Hermoine."

"_Amaranta's acquisition of the powers are as mysterious as Dianthe's, but everything changed when these two Tree Whisperers met. Amaranta, unlike Dianthe, was a delinquent and often skipped classes. Dianthe soon discovered that Amaranta skipped classes to go to the Forbidden Forest. Amaranta invited Dianthe, one day in April, to her secret spot in which she disappeared during class. It is believed that Amaranta showed Dianthe a portal to another realm, where the Tree Whisperers came from, thought this portal has not been found._

_"Amaranta weaved lies in front of Dianthe, telling her that the world was dying and they were sent from another world to rescue this one. She told Dianthe that together, they must use their powers to construct a giant tree that would supply the world with life. Amaranta told Dianthe that the tree would solve all the problems of the world. However, Amaranta was truly asking Dianthe to create a giant weed that would suck the nutrients from the world. They worked together, and with their powers, they twisted a tree from the Forbidden Forest and created the Giant Tree that would suck the nutrients from the world. _

_"This giant parasite in all actuality, bore fruit. Amaranta believed that if it had enough life energy, the Giant Tree could create a fruit that would grant the one who eats it unimaginable power. After the tree grew to an unimaginable size, Hogwarts had lost its spring and turned into an eternal winter. The Giant Tree sucked the warmth from the earth, along with its life, leaving it barren and people dying. _

_"But once Dianthe realized what they had done, she immediately asked for Amaranta to destroy the tree and return the world to the way it was. Amaranta refused, and they began the greatest, and only known dual of Tree Whisperers. No witnesses are alive to tell of the outcome of the battle, but during their fight, they destroyed the Giant Tree, and life was restored to the world. However, in her dying acts, Amaranta clung to a tree by the lake, and cursed the world, putting her cursed soul into the tree, which now thrashes and attacks anyone it can get close to. Nicknamed the Whomping Willow, it is believed to be possessed by Amaranta's dying spirit, whom pledge to seek revenge on the world. _

_"Dianthe Greene and Amaranta were never seen after that fateful day, but Dianthe Greene will always be remembered as a hero who saved the entire world from becoming a barren wasteland, and the line of Tree Whispers is believed to have ended with their deaths."_

The kids all looked at each other after Hermoine finished reading.

"So that's how the Whomping Willow came to be," Hermoine breathed. "You don't possibly think. . .?"

"That this was Amaranta in a past life?" Harry finished her question. "No, absolutely not. It could've been her parents or even her grandparents. Even a plant can't live that long. Besides, she even said she was only five years old, not five hundred."

"It's just. . .she has such an unusual name, and the coincidence of another person having the same name is so unlikely. . .Maybe Dumbledore thinks so too, which is why he asked you to check out the story. Maybe he believes that it's her."

"I seriously doubt that," Harry frowned. "Besides, even _if_ it was her, she won't remember it when she is reborn."

"Yeah, Hermoine," Ron nodded his head. "I mean, do you seriously think that our Amaranta could possibly even _try_ to do something like that?"

"Well, no, she doesn't seem to be that kind of person," Hermoine said. "It's not like I'm saying she's a bad person. . .I was just. . .curious. . ."

"Well, Curiosity killed the cat," Ron lectured her, shaking his finger at her. "I'm getting kind of hungry. Anyone wanna go see if we can find something to eat?"

"Sure," Harry said as he stood, following Ron out the door, but then Hermoine grabbed his arm, pulling him back. "What?"

"Have you told Draco yet?" Hermoine whispered to him.

Harry's face became hard. "Yeah."

"How'd he take it?"

"Let's say Voldermort is the least of my worries, now. I think I better sleep with one eye open from now on."

"Well, did you tell him that she's going to be born again?"

"Didn't exactly get to that part," Harry said with a scowl. "He was too busy shooting curses at me to listen to what I was saying. I think I actually heard him shout the Killing Curse once."

Hermoine smiled bitterly. "You did the right thing in telling him, though you have to make sure he knows that she'll regrow. Imagine going a whole summer thinking she's dead. . .he just might go insane."

"Who cares?" Harry growled as he turned to walk out the door. "He'll figure it out when he sees her next year."

"Harry!"

"You can't actually be pitying him? He's a prick, Hermoine!"

"But he likes her! Imagine if Sirius were actually alive, and no one told you until you saw him walking in Hogwarts next year! How would you feel?"

"Fine, fine, I get your point," Harry grumbled. "I'll tell him tomorrow or something."

"Harry."

"What?" he turned around, and poked his head through the doorway.

"I looked up what 'Amaranta' means," Hermoine smiled warmly. "_The flower that never fades._"

Harry smirked, something about that just seemed ironic. It made him chuckle. "I wonder what my name means."

"Probably hot-headed," Hermoine teased, and then she walked out the door.

* * *

**END PART ONE**


	15. Interlude

**A/N: **Oops. I meant to put this up a long time ago. It seems I never got around to it.

**Interlude**

Even though Hogwarts castle and grounds lacked students during the summer break, a lone wizard used the cover of night to walk into the Forbidden Forest carrying a large bundle in his robed arms. Despite all the life that crept and crawled within the Forbidden Forest, no noise was made except for the crunch of the wizard's boots. The crescent moon reflected off of his half moon spectacles, as Dumbledore gazed on a legion of centaurs that had come to meet him.

"The stars told us you would come here tonight, Dumbledore," the lead centaur, a dashing palomino with golden hair, declared in a deep, rumbling voice. "Although we are grateful for you allowing us to stay in this forest, but we do mind our privacy and peace."

"I don't mean to stay long," the wizard headmaster said. "I only came here to ask for a favor. Have the stars told you this as well?"

"Yes, and it said that we would accept this task of yours," the lead centaur said. "But the future is what we make of it."

"A valuable truism, to be sure," Dumbledore smiled. "Well, I will get straight to business." He unfolded the top of the bundle to reveal a plump baby face, with bright, golden curls on its head. The infant was peacefully snoring away, unaware of the conversation. "This is Amaranta, a Blommarian infant just plucked from her birthing tree. If you would be so kind as to take it upon yourselves to look after her for a while. . ."

"We firmly decline!" the centaur shouted. "We want nothing to do with that creature. We have no obligation to accept your request."

"Of course, you don't, that is what makes it a request," Dumbledore said politely. "Believe me, I have no desire to impose this task upon you, but I have very little choice. She is the last of her species and in great danger, she must be raised here, in secret, or else she will not live. I cannot trust anyone else with her safety."

"Why must she be raised in secret?"

"As I stated before, she is not human, and therefore will not be very well accepted in our society. I'd rather, for her sake, she only comes to human society when she is of age, but she will leave your care long before that. She is only an infant now, and cannot live on her own, yet. Since I cannot take care of her, I beg that you care for her. It will only be for a few weeks, and she will be willing to eat anything."

"She will even eat her own kin?"

"Only her heart is a plant, not her stomach, otherwise she is human, and thus, eats what a human eats. Laurreni, I would not impose such a taxing demand on you without something in return. You do know what she can do?"

"Yes, I know the influences this creature has on vegetation."

"As long as her heart is healthy and happy, the forest will flourish, and possibly even spread. Plants that could, before, not linger in here will thrive. Many rely on the well-being of the forest, even centaurs. You cannot say that this will not be beneficial to you and your herd."

Laurreni's face remained hard, and unemotional. The four centaurs behind him stayed upright and watched the proceedings humbly.

After a moment's silence, the centaur spoke, "The stars have not lied. We shall accept your request; however, after the length of two weeks, we will care no more for this creature. If you do not obtain it midnight of the last day, we shall release it out of the forest. We shall have no more to do with the creature after that span of time."

"You are quite generous, Laurreni," Dumbledore smiled broadly, the wrinkles of his face stretching. "That should be plenty of time. I am in your debt."

"We do have a slight obligation to you for giving us a place to live," Laurreni admitted.

He broke off from the legion and relinquished the bundle from Dumbledore's arms. With a quick glance at his kin, the centaurs galloped into the depths of the forest, leaving a relieved and smiling Dumbledore.


	16. Intimidated With Amaranta

**A/N: **Wow, I'm way overdue for this story. Sorry, writer's block. Well, the beginnig of part two is here! This part of the story takes place in book 6, although I did tweak things a bit. Anywho,enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own them, however, if I had a say in the story, this is what might happen. . .

**Intimidated With Amaranta**

Amaranta was having a staring contest with Fawkes, the phoenix in Dumbledore's office. The Blommarian's crystal blue eyes were beginning to itch as the phoenix's crimson eyes glared on relentlessly. Her slender, porcelain fingers gripped the arm of her mahogany chair with gusto, but she could not hold it any longer. With a cry of anguished defeat, Amaranta blinked her dry eyes, now filling with tears.

"Darn it, Fawkes, you always win!" Amaranta cried, rubbing her eyes with the side of her hand. "Sometimes I wonder if you ever blink at all!"

Fawkes tweaked his feathers victoriously, as he blinked at Amaranta, who was laughing at her own folly now. They both stopped when they heard the click of the office door. Amaranta flicked around, her golden locks bouncing eagerly.

"Albus!" she cried jubilantly, jumping out of her chair.

"You need to call me Professor Dumbledore from now on, Amaranta," he said sternly although his wizened face was stretched in a wide grin. "You will be a student here, from now on, so you must address me accordingly. Now sit, we have much to talk about."

Amaranta obeyed although her tapping foot betrayed her energetic feelings. Dumbledore walked around his wooden desk to sit in the large headmaster's chair. Her stomach churned when she saw the blackened, shriveled hand protruding from his purple-and-gold sleeves.

"Amaranta, I have always told you that you weren't entirely human, that you were truly a Blommarian," Dumbledore began.

"Yes," Amaranta smiled. "I appreciate the honesty."

Dumbledore chuckled, and then grew grim. "Unfortunately, I haven't been entirely honest with you, I'm afraid. Amaranta . . . You existed once before, in a previous life. You died only a few months ago. Because your heart contains a Heart Flower, I took the fruit of your heart, and your memories, just before you died and replanted you, which is why you still exist here, today."

Dumbledore paused to read Amaranta's reaction. She simply stared at him, wide-eyed.

"You're kidding, right?" she retorted.

"I would not jest on such a serious matter," Dumbledore said. "I am completely serious Amaranta. I do not want to lie to you. Though, I will give you the option of reacquiring your memories. Please listen to this Amaranta, for I want you to know what you're getting into: You're past is dark and filled with much unhappiness, not that you weren't happy. When you were with Mr. Malfoy and Harry Potter, you were a very happy child, but I want to warn you of what you will be facing. Do you want to get your memories back?"

"I really existed in a previous life?" Amaranta asked in awe.

"Yes."

"Could I do magic really well?" She suddenly asked eagerly.

"You were quite the expert in Defense Against The Dark Arts."

"I would like to have my memories then, please!"

Dumbledore sighed. "Please understand that your past was dark. You may not like all that you see."

"The past is the past, right?" Amaranta said. "It won't change who I am now. The fact that you and the centaurs raised me doesn't change. I just would like to know, is all."

Dumbledore smiled wistfully, but gave in. He produced a crystal vial filled with a silver matter from his robe, and held his wand out from the other hand. Carefully, he removed the cork. "Just take deep breaths," Dumbledore said calmly. "And try to clear your mind; it'll be easier that way."

Amaranta had lost her innocent smile and was anxiously watching Dumbledore's wand as it extracted the silver wisps from the vial. Slowly, he drew the matter to her temple, where she was met with an instant fiery pain on contact. She opened her mouth in a silent scream and clenched her eyes shut, just before passing out.

"_I think it's best if you practice with Hermione. . ."_

_I know what you're doing, you evil, vile, twisted, awful. . ."_

"_A thousand arrows. . ."_

"_I-It's called k-k-kissing. . .or snogging. . ."_

"_You really shouldn't get attached to such a girl. . ."_

"_Hand over the prophecy!" _

"_P-P-Please. . .F-Father. . ."_

Like she had just reached the surface of relentless water rapids, Amaranta sprang awake, gasping for breath, and she found her face wet. Had she actually been underwater? No, the pain in her eyes said otherwise.

"I'm sorry," Dumbledore's weary-laden voice drew Amaranta's eyes to her side. "The burden was too great. It was foolish of me to give them all to you at once! I should have taken into account how a life's worth of memories must've felt. I'm sorry, Amaranta."

The old man's voice was only an annoying drone in her throbbing head. She grimaced at how the reverberations of his vocal chords rattled her brain. However, the pain could be overlooked, for she had much to contemplate and muse over. She had just been handed her entire life to her.

Amaranta looked different in her previous life. Light was unacquainted with her, and as a result, she was deathly pale, and her once pale, blonde hair darkened to a brown. Her eyes were sunken and dulled to a grayish blue. She had been so afraid that she didn't even know what fear was anymore. How contrasted her lives are! The previous Amaranta frightened her. She had felt so empty, so worthless. She would've shunned such a girl. How could they be the same person.

"Darkness," Amaranta muttered, "is such an awful and horrific thing."

Guessing to the nature of Amaranta's train of thought, Dumbledore led her to a reclining chair which he produced from thin air at the wave of his wand.

"The welcoming ceremony isn't for another three hours," Dumbledore spoke softly as he materialized a warm, wool blanket that floated down on Amaranta. "Do you think you'll be able to make it? It is not mandatory. Do not tax yourself."

"No, I want to go," Amaranta turned to stare out the window. The day was quickly waning, and the sun was beginning to set. "I want to see Harry, Ron, and Hermione, and. . .Draco, as well."

Dumbledore smiled sympathetically. "Get a good rest then," he said, as he moved towards the door. "I'm going to go prepare for the ceremony. I'll come back up a little earlier to check on you again."

"Ok, Albus."

"That's Professor Dumbledore, now," he reminded her, with a smile, then left the room.

* * *

Amaranta woke up after a good three hour's sleep. A glass of water on the table next to her told her that Dumbledore had visited her during her nap. She gratefully chugged the water with a refreshing sigh.

_The welcoming ceremony will be beginning soon, _Amaranta thought, her headache a vague memory of the past. _Oh no! What if I slept through it? Hopefully, it's still going!_

Her heart rate accelerating, Amaranta flung the wool blanket off of her and scrambled to the office door, almost forgetting to put her shoes on. She flew down the spiral steps and ran past the gargoyle statues. Light on her toes, Amaranta giddily skipped down the hallway towards the Great Hall. Although she had never met her friends, she couldn't wait to see them again.

However, her drunken gaiety was interrupted when Amaranta came across a very striking young woman standing in the middle of the corridor, holding a potted plant. Her vibrant, green eyes are what shocked Amaranta first. They were a sharp emerald with a dark forest of knowledge swirling around the iris. Her shocking blonde hair is what alerted her next. The exotic waves of her sunny mane seemed to cling to her face like ivy, and a soothing smell of oak and fresh pine snuck its way into Amaranta's nose, that left and acidic and poisonous taste in her mouth. Her skin was fair and as sooth as a porcelain doll, and Amaranta was surprised that such small feet could support the sheer weight of her busting chest. The plant she held was none other than a black rose, its petals alluring and velvety, but its red-tipped thorns seemed extra sharp and they stretched themselves to their limits to try and inflict pain on the nearest victim. Frankly, Amaranta couldn't see much of a difference between the two.

Amaranta realized that she had been gawking stupidly at the girl, and then closed her previously open mouth. "Shouldn't you be in the Great Hall?" Amaranta asked her. "You're a student, right?"

The young, beautiful girl smiled to reveal perfect, pearly teeth. "Yes, I just wanted to give my friend here a little sunlight," a chill shot up my spine. Dammit! Even her voice was perfect! "It's ever so dark in the Great Hall."

"Alright then," Amaranta decided to buy her story. Something about this girl evoked a sense of antipathy in her. "We can go down to the Great Hall together. What's your name?"

"Me?" she said in a cute, innocent voice that made Amaranta want to rip her crawling skin off. "My name is Dianthe Greene. I'm a transfer student from Transylvania. I'm starting my sixth year here at Hogwarts."

"Wow, Transylvania!" Amaranta exclaimed. "You don't have the slightest accent! You have such good pronunciation! It's a pleasure to meet you, Dianthe, I am Amaranta; I'm also a sixth year!"

Dianthe gave a smile that unnerved the young Blommarian. She could almost hear the words "I know" come from her mouth.

Amaranta gave an awkward smile back as she followed Dianthe Greene to the Great Hall. She wanted to say she "led" the girl to the Great Hall, however, her confident stride asserted her authority over the plain Amaranta. Was it possible for anyone to lead such a leader? Amaranta glanced at the sensuous that flowed from the girl's head. Hers was so much brighter and glamorous, than Amaranta's pale, stringy lengths that fell off her temple. With the same hair and eye color, it was understandable that people will naturally compare the two. And if it was a battle looks, then Amaranta would surely fail.

"They probably wouldn't recognize me anyway," she thought aloud as she brought the tip of her wand to her hair. As she slowly moved her wand through her hair, it darkened to a deep brown, lighter than what she remembered from the past, but dark enough to resemble her former self.

The girl beside her said nothing, and betrayed no sign of having noticed a change at all. She walked through the double doors of the Great Hall with that sadistic smile of hers, as the girls were welcomed with a sudden silence. Dumbledore had been in the middle of his welcoming speech. He only smiled at the two girls.

"Ah, Amaranta, I see you have brought our new student here," Dumbledore spoke kindly, but then projected his audible voice to the crowd, "We have a new transfer student today, from Transylvania. I am pleased to announce she will be joining the Slytherin ranks this year. You may join Amaranta at the Slytherin table, Miss Greene."

Amaranta's rosy face followed Dianthe to the Slytherin table, and she cursed her receptive ears. The noisy gossip that followed Dumbledore's announcement attacked her as she made the long walk to the other side of the Great Hall.

"Whoa! She's a looker!"

"Such good looks wasted to the Slytherins!"

"Do you think she'll go out with me?"

"Why is she carrying a black rose around?"

"Funny how we have a new transfer student."

"This one's a lot better though!"

Amaranta gave a venomous glare to the Ravenclaw boy who just spoke those words, who shrunk back under her sepulchral gaze. She tried her best to ignore the vexing comments around her, but she found that task very easy when a bleach-blonde head poking out from the sea of black robes made her heart skip a beat. She had never actually _met_ Draco Malfoy, but she could remember being with him. Her face grew a darker red when she remembered that one Christmas morning in the top floor of the Malfoy Manor. She was much more learned now, living in a school and all.

Draco Malfoy had caught her gaze and was gaping back at her with restrained excitement. He gripped the rim of the table so that his knuckles were white, and he quickly motioned for her to sit next to him. Since Crabbe and Goyle were sitting in the seats opposite from Draco, he had a seat left empty at each of his flanks, with an aggravated Pansy Parkinson glaring at the gap between him and her. Amaranta eagerly sat next to Draco, and they gazed into each other's eyes like reunited lovers.

However, Amaranta's heart shrank with fear when she saw Dianthe Greene sit on Draco's other side. However, the gorgeous girl ignored Draco as he did likewise.

"You're really . . . alive?" Draco breathed, ignoring Dumbledore as he continued his speech.

Amaranta grew pale. "Do you-"

"Potter told me," Draco answered her unfinished question. "It all makes sense now. But you haven't changed at all, well, you do look a bit more healthy, but you're eyes haven't changed."

"But I guess this means I won't be able to visit the Malfoy Manor anymore," Amaranta muttered with obvious disappointment.

"That doesn't matter!" Draco whispered. "I'll do whatever it takes to protect you from him! My parents won't know a thing! And I'll stay at Hogwarts for the holidays!"

"Draco, you don't have-"

"I want to!"

Amaranta smiled shyly. Everything was repaired between Draco and her. Although she could never forget what he did to her, she could never leave her best friend.

Draco gave a relieved smile: an unusual sight, even for Amaranta. "I'm glad," he whispered, almost inaudibly. "When Potter told me you'd become 'a new Amaranta' I thought you'd become a completely different girl, but you're still the same, if better! It feels like I'm finally meeting the real Amaranta."

Amaranta opened her mouth to say something, however the Sorting had begun, and silence was admonished upon the crowd.


	17. Meeting With Amaranta

**A/N: **Wow, it feels like forever since I've been on. (58 days, exactly). I'm sorry for my long hiatus, but I have actually been working on things. I just worked a little bit on each story, just never got a chapter done. Thanks to my friends Harry Potter FF, I feel newly revived and motivated to continue (and hopefully finish) TFTNF!

**Mild Warning:** Quite a bit of cussing.

Enjoy!

**Meeting With Amaranta**

_Dammit! Dammit! Dammit! DAMMIT!_

Amaranta glared with great ferocity at the strawberry blonde girl giggling angelically in her newly found posse of boys. It was only a couple of days before a fan club started. Amaranta noticed many of the other girls were shooting her nasty glares. Since coming to Hogwarts, Amaranta was the only girl Dianthe had ever spoken to. She was either treated like a goddess, or like the devil.

And Amaranta had the unfortunate fate of sharing every class with her. It was as if she purposefully came here to be near Amaranta. She didn't go out of her way to talk to her, but every time Amaranta would glance her way, her smile seemed a bit brighter, her bust a bit larger, and the boys even more wrapped around her finger than they already were.

Amaranta ignored it at first, but dealing with that pure essence of perfect got on her nerves. By the end of the week, she wanted to snap her pretty little neck. There was just something about the girl that invoked anger in you.

"You couldn't be jealous, could you?" Hermoine asked slowly and cautiously when Amaranta spoke out her troubles.

The reunion with Harry, Ron, and Hermoine had gone just like Draco's with mere "hello's" and comments on her healthy look. It seemed as if they simply picked up right where they left off.

"Jealous?" Amaranta snapped grouchily at her friend. "Of the godsend from Transylvania? Now why would you think that, Hermoine? How could such a perfect person cause such imperfectness in others? Or maybe that's it! She not perfect, she just makes us all look bad! That's her trick!"

Hermoine and the others exchanged wary looks.

Harry leaned closer to her from his spot on the bench that they sat in inside the courtyard and said, "It doesn't matter how perfect she is, Amaranta, because you have one thing she doesn't!"

"What's that?" Amaranta immediately asked eyes hopeful and wide.

"Us!" Harry smiled kindly. "I hate superficial and preppy girls like her. She just feels too artificial. I much rather prefer your company."

Amaranta blushed and smiled giddily. "Th-that's such a bold thing to say. Thanks, Harry. Ah! There's Draco; he's probably looking for me! I better go, bye!"

Amaranta quickly scrambled off of the bench and away from sight. Ron and Hermoine gave Harry curious looks when she was gone.

"Yeah, that was such a bold thing to say," Hermoine warned.

"You're not into her or anything, are you?" Ron asked.

"What? Of course not!" Harry quickly answered. "I've just come to realize how good of a friend she is, ya know? You know what they say, you never realize what you have until it's gone. Luckily for us, Amaranta came back."

The other two fell silent, remembering how they almost lost her.

Amaranta's mind was in chaos. She liked Harry, and never even considered the notion of anything more between them until now. His words echoed in her brain and her heart was only just now slowing down.

_He probably didn't mean anything drastic by that_, she told herself to try and calm down. _He was just trying to cheer me up, as a concerned friend. _

Amaranta spotted a familiar speck of bleach-blonde hair in the distance. She had only used Draco as an excuse to get away, but had he actually been looking for her?

No.

The young Blommarian's stomach dropped to the ground when she saw him conversing with the "godsend." Could she actually be jealous?

No, no; she was just concerned for her best friend. Dianthe was probably a heart breaker. She had to break up this little meeting instantly, or something bad was going to happen. However, she couldn't find the will to move her body. They just…looked so perfect together. Like two peas in a pod, as if they were meant to be.

Amaranta hid behind the tree near her, and sunk to the ground. She suddenly felt weak and defeated. What would she do if her best friend was taken away from her? Just that thought had made her begin to cry, however she stopped when a flood of crinkly, dead leaves fell on top of her. She looked up at the once healthy, green tree to find it grey and shriveled. What had happened?

* * *

Draco Malfoy walked into the Slytherin common room confident. He had given her a week's grace period, now he could surely start making his move. He found his target pacing around the leather couches in deep thought.

"Hey, Amaranta," he called out to her in the friendliest voice he could muster; "Zach and the others are going to play Spin-the-Bottle, wanna join?"

"I suppose it would be impossible to get sunlight in here, wouldn't it?" She pondered aloud, continuing her same circuit around the couch.

"What are you talking about?"

"Huh? Oh, Draco, I didn't notice you there. I was just thinking about getting a plant, like a fichus or something. It would certainly brighten up the girls' bedroom."

"Uh . . . sure, I suppose it would," Draco couldn't follow her train of thought. "Look here, I'll get you an Apollo's Artificial Sun later, do you wanna-"

Draco stopped mid-sentence. Everyone else was either in their dormitories or playing Spin-The-Bottle in the boys' dormitories. He was alone with Amaranta. Chance!

"Hey, Amaranta," Draco turned on the charm and walked predatorily towards the unsuspecting girl. "I've heard a rumor that you can hold your breath longer if you share your air with someone."

"Really?" She looked up at him. She had always been a curious one. You never knew when nifty little facts would come in handy. "How can you share breath?"

"Like this. . ." Draco held Amaranta's chin up and closed his lips around her mouth. With his free hand, he held her waist close to him, so she couldn't escape. Again, he felt that hungry feeling inside him again. The push and the pull. He leaned deeper and deeper into the kiss until he had pushed Amaranta onto the couch behind her.

Their fall had caused them to break apart, with Amaranta lying red and shocked on the couch, staring up at the panting Draco on top of her.

"It appears that the rumor's wrong," Draco said with a coy smirk as he reluctantly got off of Amaranta. "You look breathless. Well, then, I'll go write Dad about that artificial sun. You go on to bed."

Leaving her still lying on the couch, Draco went downstairs to his room.

* * *

Amaranta felt quite comfortable on cloud nine with her friends, and hanging out with Harry. She gave a mental thanks to Albus, for creating a very convenient schedule in which she had all classes with Harry on one day and all classes with Draco on the other, with the exclusion of Potions (which happens to be on a Draco day, so she spends Potion class with him). She now plans her agenda by "Harry" days and "Draco" days. Today happened to be a Draco day. And it seemed like cloud nine had no more room for her.

Dianthe, whom until now hadn't bothered with her, was still not bothering with her, but now seemed to be magnetically attracted to Draco. She never stole her spot on Draco's right side ― no; young Mr. Malfoy would never allow that. She did, however, take Crabbe and Goyle's spot on his other side.

At first, she started idle chat, only exchanging a few words before ignoring him for the rest of class. But as the days went by, she began to make her presence more and more felt. Amaranta's eye would twitch each time Miss Greene would lean up against Draco in such a way that it was quite easy to see her cleavage.

It was at times like these that every girl in the classroom's brainwaves would unite with one single word: _Whore!_

Amaranta was no exception. If anything, her mind's tongue was more colorful. At the end of Arithmetic, Pansy Parkinson pulled her aside for a quick word.

"You know she's aiming for Draco, right?" she said bluntly as the other witches and wizards filed out of the classroom.

"Uh, yeah," Amaranta answered warily, eyeing Parkinson's face cautiously.

"And you still just let her snuggle up to Draco like that?!"

"I'm not _letting_ her; it's just not like I can just tell her to move it."

"Sure, you can! Draco will listen to whatever you have to say. If you want her to back off, then he'll push her away. In fact, I wonder why he's even letting her be there in the first. He's smart enough to know her goal."

"I don't know, just…I'll talk to her, alright?"

"Fine, but if she ever gives you any trouble, you just tell me, and me and my girls'll ruin that pretty face of hers." She punched her fist into the palm of her other hand to emphasize her meaning.

"Why would you help me?" Amaranta asked seriously. "I thought you hated me?"

"Oh, I do, don't doubt that," Pansy replied immediately. "But I hate her even more. And right now, she's the one trying to steal Draco away, so together, we have a common enemy."

With that, Pansy Parkinson strode away, and Amaranta quickly skipped out of the classroom to find Draco, who was surely waiting for her. He was waiting, but with another particular blonde.

"Oh, look, there she is!" Draco called as he grabbed Amaranta's hand and pulled her closer. "Dianthe and I were waiting for you, Amaranta."

"Oh, really?" Amaranta meant to give a condescending smile, but it came out crooked and psychotic looking.

"Yes, I've been meaning to speak to you," Dianthe smiled her syrupy smile. "I've just been so shy that I haven't had the nerve to speak up."

_Like hell!_

"As you can see, I don't have many girl friends."

Her pouting lip was disgusting.

"I try to be nice, but it seems beauty can be deadly sometimes. Girls get really jealous easily! Boys are the only ones who will ever even talk to me!"

_They aren't talking to you; they're talking to your boobs._

"So I found it a little easier to talk to your friend here, Dra-I mean, Malfoy," she blushed and fluttered her eyes girlishly at Amaranta's childhood friend at her little slip-up.

_Good Merlin! She must've been taking lessons from Umbridge herself!_

"You were the first person to talk to me, when we met before the entrance ceremony! If you don't mind, I'd like to spend sometime to get to know you, and hopefully we can be friends in the near future!"

_This is my chance to get her alone and murder her in the most brutal way possible._

"Sure!" Amaranta exclaimed with fake enthusiasm. "I wanted to talk to you as well! Since it's lunch period, why don't we go outside and have a little girl-to-girl chat."

Amaranta glanced over at Draco hoping he caught the "girl-to-girl." She didn't want him to see her looking so ugly when she murdered the little slut.

"Well, I'll just go to the Great Hall with Crabbe and Goyle," Draco obediently said, noting Amaranta's look. "Catch you in Charms later."

Amaranta waved him off and then "followed" (remember the whole "can't lead a leader" thing?) Dianthe to the courtyard. However, she went out past the Courtyard and towards the Whomping Willow by the lake. Curious, but willing, Amaranta made no protest. Here, they would be alone.

Amaranta stopped a safe distance from the thrashing tree, but Dianthe continued to walk towards it. _Oh, no! She's new here, so she won't know about it's aggressive behavior! _Amaranta opened her mouth to shout a warning, but stopped when she noticed that the Whomping Willow was starting to calm down. By the time that Dianthe had arrived at it's trunk, the Whomping Willow resembled a normal tree.

She put her hand on it, and for the first time, Amaranta saw her frown, and even look sad, as if remembering an old wound. The tree itself started to lean into her touch.

"Hello, my other self," she murmured. Then, she turned around and glared at the girl she had led here. "God, I'm so sick of smiling all the time! My cheeks hurt! Men really are retarded creatures. They see only with their eyes."

The brown-haired Blommarian took a step back. _So her true character has arrived! _

"Now, Amaranta, my dearest, after lifetimes of searching for you, I can finally take my revenge!"

She lifted her arms straight into the air, and suddenly, the roots of the Whomping Willow leapt out of the ground and shot right for her. If it was for her quick reflexes, she would have been skewered!

"What's wrong, Amaranta? Why don't you block?" Dianthe sneered at her. "You can't run forever!"

She swung her left arm in a great motion across her chest, and the roots dashed towards her, as if connected to Dianthe's slender fingers by thin strings. Again, Amaranta dove out of the way, but this time, she wasn't so lucky. One of the roots nicked her right leg, and she tumbled into the lush green grass, now stained with her blood. Hissing from the pain, she grabbed her injured leg, and braced for the next attack.

The puppet roots wrapped around her arms and legs, holding her up above the ground, immobile. Contrary to Amaranta's thoughts, Dianthe didn't look at all pleased that she had just captured and injured her. She looked frustrated in fact.

"Why don't you fight back?" Dianthe growled at her captive. "I brought you specifically to this place so that you wouldn't be able to control my medium against me. You used to be a stronger Blommarian than me. _Used to._ But there is still grass around for you to manipulate, why do you not?"

"What are you talking about?" I said through clenched teeth, trying to ignore the searing pain shooting up my leg.

"You know! Our power!" Dianthe almost looked desperate, and slightly psycho. "Only Blommarians have the power to alter the vegetation around them, even to the point they become deadly weapons." She flicked her hand, and a single root slashed across Amaranta's face to show her meaning.

_How is she doing that? _Amaranta thought, looking at her empty hands. _She doesn't even have a wand out. What, she mentioned Blommarians. _"Are you a Blommarian, too?"

"Don't play dumb with me!" Dianthe shouted angrily, and she sent another root to slash at Amaranta's face. "You were the one who taught me about my ability!"

"I seriously don't know what you're talking about!" Amaranta shouted desperately. "I only just met you! How could I have taught you something I didn't even know I could do?"

"You seriously don't remember?" Dianthe's anger faded away, and now she looked distressed. "Not even Jake? You don't even remember him?"

"Who's Jake?" Amaranta furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion.

The roots suddenly dropped into the ground, causing her to fall onto the hard earth. Trying to regain her breath, Amaranta looked up at the blank-faced Dianthe. The beautiful blonde stared intensely at the ground as if her world had just collapsed around her.

"I've waited all those years, for my revenge and you don't even remember us," she finally spoke, and her voice was wavering. "Were all those things you said to me a lie?" She turned on Amaranta with sudden fury and tears in her eyes. "You said you would never forget him! You said that even after you were reborn, you still kept the same heart, and that your heart would always remember! Was that all just a lie?! You never loved him? You stole him from me and you never even loved him! I've been reborn thirteen times over, and I still haven't forgotten a single moment that the three of us spent together! You're a bitch, Amaranta Greene! A fucking bitch!"

Beside the two girls, the Whomping Willow thrashed about in agony, mirroring Dianthe's emotions. All of its branches shot out to smash Amaranta into the earth, but just before they reached the stunned Blommarian, a red jet of light zapped the braches, causing it to recoil.

Both girls looked towards the castle to see three figures running towards them.

"Harry!" Amaranta called in surprise and relief.

"Are you all right, mate?" Ron called out to her through breaths. "I've never seen the Whomping Willow act like that!"

Amaranta noticed Harry was the only one with his wand out, which must've meant that he was the one who had shot at the Willow. When they reached her, they all pointed their wands at Dianthe, but the blonde made no motion to fight them.

Instead, she seemed to have calmed down a bit. She was no longer crying, but still looked furious. "Are you so weak now that you need bodyguards?" she mocked, just before leaving.

"What the bloody hell happened here, Amaranta?" Ron nearly shouted when he felt the coast was clear. "Did you two get into a fight?"

"Oh, my gosh! Amaranta, your leg!" Hermoine cried, noticing the spilling blood.

Amaranta looked down as if she had just noticed. The blood was beginning to dry now, and her whole shin was red.

"What happened between the two of you?" Harry asked her.

"I don't really know," Amaranta spoke in a daze. "The Whomping Willow attacked me."

"It always attacks people," Ron said. "That's why you're supposed to stay away."

"No, I mean its _roots_ attacked me," Amaranta said. "Dianthe was controlling them somehow, without her wand. She said that all Blommarians could do it."

"Wait, so does that mean she's a Blommarian as well?" Hermoine gaped.

"I guess so," Amaranta shrugged.

"But why did she attack you?" Harry asked, lifting her up onto her feet.

"She said she was out for revenge," Amaranta spoke a little more seriously as Dianthe's words reverberated in her mind. "She seemed to know me from somewhere, but I seriously don't remember her. She said something about this guy named Jake. None of it rings a bell."

"She must've mistaken you for someone else," Ron grabbed Amaranta's other arm to help her walk back to the castle.

"But isn't today a Malfoy day?" Harry growled. "What's that bastard doing, leaving you alone! You could've died if Hermoine hadn't remembered to give you your homework for Charms class!"

_That's a thought,_ Amaranta said to herself. _Normally, Draco would never let me go anywhere without him on the day he was supposed to spend with me. Let alone go alone with a girl he must no I don't like. What could Draco be thinking?_


	18. Picking A Fight With Amaranta

**A/N: **Here's the next installment of TFTNF! I'm already working on the next chapter.

Refer to ch. 14 for the Whomping Willow story.

**Picking A Fight With Amaranta**

Amaranta sat on her bed, looking at a small bamboo plant that Malfoy had bought her, including the little orb of light that hovered around it. She glared at it furiously, trying her best to focus all of her mind on that plant.

"Argh! Bollocks!" She cried out in frustration. "It's impossible to make a plant move with simply your will!"

"Nothings impossible in the wizarding world," a familiar, deep voice came from behind her.

Amaranta turned around to see her childhood friend leaning against one of the bed posts. "Draco, you're not supposed to be in the Girls' Dormitories," she said.

"Oh, it's not like there's anyone around to complain about it," Draco rolled his eyes. "I can go anywhere I damn well please in here."

"Just because you're a prefect doesn't mean you can disobey school rules!" Amaranta pointed out.

_God, she sounds more and more like the Mud-blood everyday,_ Draco sighed. "How's your leg?"

Amaranta allowed the change of subject. "It's as good as new. Madam Pomfrey's potions work wonders."

"Still no dice, huh?" Draco looked at the bamboo plant sitting on the nightstand.

"Dianthe said that Blommarians could bend plants at their will, and I saw her do it, but," Amaranta let out a frustrated sigh. "I can't do anything! Maybe only certain Blommarians can do it."

"But didn't she say that you taught her," Draco said.

"She said a lot of things that I don't understand," the young girl flopped back against her bed and stared at the green flames dancing on the torches. "She seemed to know me. But I don't know her." _Or Jake,_ Amaranta thought. Of course, Amaranta hadn't told Draco about that. She told him everything of her talk with Dianthe Greene, but she left out that little detail. Who knows how Draco would react to that. He was always just a little over-protective.

"Maybe you knew her in a past life," Dracosuggested.

"That's quite possible…" Amaranta sighed. "I just don't know." Then an idea struck her. "Maybe I can ask Albus. Surely he would know something about all of this."

Amaranta jumped out of bed and straightened her clothes. "Are you coming with me?"

"Sure," Draco answered nonchalantly, but in truth, he was just as eager to know the answer as her.

When they arrived at Dumbledore's office, they found him sitting at his desk alone, writing something down and looking very busy, but when he saw Amaranta, he smiled, and put down his quill as if it were an unnecessary thing.

"My dear Amaranta, and young Mister Malfoy, what do I owe the pleasure?" He smiled kindly at her and nodded to Draco.

"I'm sorry for not coming in earlier, Albus," Amaranta apologized. "I didn't realize I would have so little time when I agreed to live in the dorms with the other students."

"It's perfectly alright," Dumbledore beamed. "I knew that when the school term came around that our time together would be limited. I'm quite sure that you didn't come here to simply pay me a visit?"

Amaranta stopped petting Fawkes to turn to Dumbledore. "Yes, actually, I have a question. Okay, quite a few questions."

"Sit, my child, sit," Dumbledore motioned to the two velvet chairs before his desk. "Mister Malfoy, too."

Draco frowned at the old man, but sat down anyway. Amaranta seated herself as well, and took a deep breath before speaking.

"It's about our new student, Dianthe Greene," Amaranta began. "Did you know she was a Blommarian?"

Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows rose, but then fell back to their position. "To be completely honest with you, yes, I did. When Miss Greene asked me if she could start her sixth year term here, I thought it would be good for you to have one of your own to look to."

"Then, did you know about her intentions towards me?"

"No, what are her intentions?"

"Revenge."

Dumbledore's eyes grew sad. "Oh, I see. I'm terribly sorry."

"It's not your fault," Amaranta looked at the floor before continuing. "Do you know anything about her?"

"I'm afraid not," Dumbledore sighed. "I don't usually delve to much into my student's personal lives. I believe in the sanctity of privacy."

"How could you allow such a dangerous woman here, near Amaranta?!" Draco shouted suddenly.

Dumbledore remained quiet, looking sternly at Draco. "Dianthe has every much right to be here as you do. Yes, she has a deadly power, but I know she will not harm any of my students."

"Uh, newsflash, old man, she already did!" Draco said, pointing at Amaranta.

"Draco, it's not his fault," Amaranta pleaded quietly.

"Mister Malfoy, if I were to expel students simply for their antipathy towards other students, even if they are my favorites," Dumbledore's wizened face crinkled in a smile at Amaranta before growing serious again, "then you would be sent home just as fast as Miss Greene would."

Draco frowned deeper, and sat back down.

"Albus, can you tell me what her connection to the Whomping Willow would be?" Amaranta continued.

"That's Professor Dumbledore, and no, I'm afraid I can't tell you, but do you might want to ask Mister Potter about the story of the Whomping Willow. I'm sure it will bring much insight into what you're looking for."

"Thanks, Albus!" Amaranta smiled, hopping out of her chair. "I mean, Professor Dumbledore. I'll go ask him right away!"

Draco, too, stood up, and walked towards the door. Amaranta was about to leave when Dumbledore called her name softly. She turned around and looked at him curiously.

"Remember, that no matter what happens," Amaranta lost her smile as she saw the small, black hand sticking out of his sleeve, "you will always be my daughter, and I will always love you."

The young girl smiled softly. "Thanks….Dad," she muttered that last word much more quietly before walking down the spiral staircase.

"I don't trust that old codger," Draco fumed the minute they were out in the hallways. "He's planning something, I just know it! And how come Potter knows something about all this, but he hasn't told us?"

"I don't know," Amaranta said, still smiling giddily. "There's probably no connection at all, so he never thought it would be helpful."

They found Ron, Hermoine, and Harry together in the library. They smiled when they saw Amaranta, but frowned when they noticed Draco following her.

"Hey, guys," Amaranta called out cheerily, but then lowered her voice to a whisper when the librarian gave her dirty looks. "We've been looking all over for you three."

"Oh really?" Harry raised an eyebrow and gave a skeptical look at Draco. "What do you want?"

"I just got back from visiting Alb-I mean Professor Dumbledore, and he says that you might know something about the Whomping Willow."

The three froze and looked at each other. "Of course!" They rasped in unison. Hermoine dashed away and soon came back with a dusty, worn book. "We're sorry, Amaranta! We completely forgot about it!"

"What?" Amaranta sat down at the table with them, while Draco stood behind her, his hand on her chair.

"Dumbledore told us to look this up last year," Harry whispered. "It's a story about the past of the Whomping Willow."

"I can't believe we didn't realize it before!" Hermoine sighed. "It's so obvious! Even the names-just here, Amaranta read this page."

Amaranta looked at the book that Hermoine shoved towards her. She saw a small picture of a willow tree at the top with the words "THE WHOMPING WILLOW" underneath it.

Quickly, Amaranta read through the page, and Draco read over her shoulder. Amaranta read it three times before finally sitting back and letting her brain digest it. "There's no way…"

"Amaranta's not like this," Draco rasped dangerously. "This isn't her! It's someone else!"

"We don't think it's her, but…" Hermoine looked at the boys.

"It's just too much of a coincidence," Ron said.

"Hermoine," Amaranta spoke without looking at her. She was still staring unbelievingly at the book. "Is there any potion or spell that can revive old memories?"

"Umm…none that I really know of, but there's the Remembrall, but that would be useless in this case," said Hermoine.

"What about memories of the heart?"

"Memories of the heart?" Ron looked at her stupidly. "Hearts don't have memories, or at least not as specific as your brain does."

"No, think about it, Ron," Amaranta said, still staring at the book, but this time more fixedly. "I can be reborn over and over again, unless some one were to take my Heart Fruit, or my tree was hacked down before I could be born again. The only thing in me that remains constant is my heart. Like Dianthe said, 'your heart will always remember.' That must mean that these memories are locked deep within my heart. I must've done all of these things in a previous life."

"But there's no way, you—"­ Harry interjected.

"It's just as Ron said. This is too much of a coincidence. I need to remember."

"I'm sorry, Amaranta, but I don't know anything about the memories of the heart," Hermoine sighed.

"It's alright Hermoine," Amaranta stood up. "I'll go do some research on my own."

"No, Amaranta, I will," Draco held her arm. "You still need to figure out how to use your powers before Dianthe kills you."

"You're right," Amaranta nodded. "Well, I'll be off."

Amaranta walked down the hallways quietly, unable to shake off a foreboding feeling. She decided to head outside where there was plenty of vegetation and sunlight, to begin her experimentation. However, she bumped into a very unwanted person on the way there.

"Ugh!" Was Dianthe's immediate response upon seeing her.

"Is that what you say when you meet someone in the corridors?" Amaranta shouted angrily.

"Sorry, it's become a reflex now," the perfect blonde snorted, looking away.

Amaranta growled. "Look here, I don't know what I did to you in the past, and I'm sorry if I might have nearly destroyed the world or something, but I'm sorry now, ok?"

"No!" Dianthe punched the wall next to them, fury in her eyes. A couple of teenagers walking by looked at her warily. "It's not ok, Amaranta! Do you know how frustrating this all is? I won't accept any apologies or anything until you remember, and until then…" she leaned in closer to Amaranta and dropped her voice so that only the two of them could hear, "I'm going to make your life miserable!"

"I've been through some pretty bad things, I don't see what you can do," Amaranta rolled her eyes, trying not to sound scared.

"Oh, really?" Dianthe straightened her back and smiled menacingly. "Well, then, I suppose I'll just steal your boyfriend, since you stole mine."

"Wai-Wha­—?" Amaranta began, but Dianthe ignored her and strode down the corridor and disappeared behind the corner.

_Was…that a threat?_ Amaranta stared off into the distance. _BRING IT ON, BIATCH!_

With new found fervor, Amaranta stormed into the courtyard, cheeks flushed and fuming. "Stupid, big-boobed, slutty…" Amaranta grumbled steamily. She stopped and strode around in a few circles, unable to sit still, her mind thinking of all sorts of colorful names.

She stopped when she heard a rustling beside. She looked up and saw a bright green birch tree rustling in the wind. Wait…wind? Amaranta looked around. There was no wind. Amarants swirled around and looked at the tree again. It was beginning to calm down again.

"No, wait!" Amaranta whispered to the tree. "Uh…come back!" The tree remained still again, standing out no more than the other trees.

"Graah!" Amaranta howled in rage and kicked the tree. "Dammit! This is just my day!"

The tree shook at her in response.

"Yes! Yes! That's it!" Amaranta nearly screamed aloud. Then the tree began to wave more gently, as if it were seaweed in the water. The topmost limbs reached out towards the sun, steadily growing. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

And then it dawned on her.

"I've got it!" This time she actually did yell aloud so that the whole courtyard turned to look at her.

Clicking her heels, Amaranta ran straight to her room so she could try out her newly found power.


	19. Isolated With Amaranta

**A/N: **I know this segment is a little more detached from the actual book than the last one was. (I'm only just now mentioning Professor Slughorn.) I remind you, this is set in book 6. I forget sometimes, but I'm writing my own story. (That's what an OC is all about.) So, yes, there're a lot of things that don't happen or some that never happened, but hey, it's fanfiction.

**Disclaimer:** (Because I haven't done it in a wihle.) All credit goes to possibly the richest author in history: J.K. Rowling.

**Isolated With Amaranta**

"Look, look, Hermoine!" Amaranta called out happily across the lunch table. People had gotten used to a Slytherin at the Gryffindor table by now. Amaranta seemed to be the one Slytherin who acted nothing like a Slytherin. "Mr. Bamboo says 'hi'!" She stared fixedly at the small bamboo plant. Slowly, one of its leaves waved a greeting at Hermoine.

"Bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed. "You're amazing, Amaranta!"

Red flashed across the young girl's face. "Well, I try."

"How'd you figure it out?" Hermoine asked anxiously, excited to learn something new. "What's the trick?"

"It's quite simple, really," Amaranta couldn't help grinning from ear to ear. "When you think about it, it all makes sense. It's my emotions. Since the only part of me that is a plant is my heart, then it makes sense for my emotions to be the key to control other plants. But they have to be very extreme and complete. I can't be feeling any other emotion, or it could do something else, or not move at all."

The two eyed the plant in awe as it waved back and forth as if it were singing _Kumbyah_.

"So what are you feeling now?" Ron asked.

"I'm extremely giddy!" Amaranta giggled. "I'm so excited! I'm finally useful! I can do something extraordinary!"

"What do you mean you're not useful?" Ron asked. "You're as good at Defense Against The Dark Arts as Harry!"

"That's only because of my past life," Amaranta sighed. "Speaking of, where is Harry? I want to show him my new power!"

"Oh, he's having his private lesson with Dumbledore," Hermoine answered.

"What are those about anyway?" Amaranta asked eagerly. The bamboo plant stopped moving.

"I'm sorry, but we can't tell you if Dumbledore says we can't," Hermoine said sympathetically. "Trust me, I'd love to tell you if I could, but we're sworn to secrecy. Have you shown Draco yet? I'm sure he'd be delighted—"

"No, he hasn't been around either," Amaranta sighed. The bamboo plant slumped a little.

"Well, I gotta get some homework done," Amaranta stood up and grabbed Mr. Bamboo. "See ya guys later." The bamboo looked sickly now.

The two just watched as she watched Amaranta as she slumped off. She moved sluggishly in her gloom, passersby mistook her for Moaning Myrtle at times. It was the weekend so people were scarce. She replayed the discussion she had with Dumbledore in her mind.

"_Alb-I mean, Professor Dumbledore, why can't you tell me what you and Harry talk about in your lessons?" Amaranta pleaded desperately, leaning on his desk. "Hermoine and Ron already know all about it! How come I'm the only one who doesn't know?"_

"_I'm sorry, Amaranta, but I just can't tell you," Dumbledore sighed. He had foreseen this conversation. "It's not that I don't trust you. I'd trust you with my life if the chance came. I simply don't want you to know." _

"_Why not?!" Amaranta cried. "Is it because I'm friends with Draco? I won't tell him a thing, I swear!"_

"_No, dear, it's not that," Dumbledore sighed again. _

"_Then what? Is it about Lord Voldermort? You're training Harry to fight against him, aren't you? I broke my bonds to that man a long time ago! I'd never help him!"_

"_I know that."_

"_Then why? Why?"_

"_I can't tell you why. I'm sorry, but it's best if you don't concern yourself with this." _

"…_It's related to your burnt hand, isn't it?" _

"…_I'm sorry, Amaranta, I just can't tell you." _

Tears welled up in her eyes. Everyone was leaving her out. Even Draco. He had been disappearing a lot lately, and he wouldn't tell her anything either. Why couldn't they tell her?Amaranta wanted to be involved. She wanted to help in the fight against Voldermort, but no one wanted her help.

"I'm not useless," Amaranta mumbled.

"Oh, but you are," a vexing voice brought her back down to earth.

"Dianthe, won't you just leave me alone, today?" Amaranta sighed. She didn't want to deal with her right now.

"I said I was going to make your life miserable, didn't I?" She smirked evilly.

"Well, congratulations, it's miserable," Amaranta sighed heavily and walked past her. She would've kept walking until she heard the nonchalant comment, "You're friend is a surprisingly good kisser."

Amaranta flicked around, a crazed look in her eye.

_Now that I've got your attention_, Dianthe thought with a smirk and then continued. "From the looks of him, you'd figure he was just some pampered prat, but he really knows how to use that tongue."

Amaranta looked like a bull about to charge. The bamboo plant in her arm tried desperately to claw at Dianthe.

"You haven't seen him lately, have you? He hasn't told you what he's been doing all those nights he hasn't come back to the dormitories. Did you sit the in the Common Room and wait for him all night, like a faithful wife?"

"You…You…"

"Why are you getting so worked up? It's not like you two were going out or anything. He's a free man to choose whoever he wants to make out with. It's not my fault if he doesn't like snogging a flat plank like you. But your friend is so easy to manipulate. He's as stupid as other men. All I have to do is press my body close to his, and I've got him wrapped around my finger."

Amaranta was shaking now.

"Aww, are you going to cry now?"

"I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!" Amaranta screamed before she tackled Dianthe to the ground. The blonde had not expected such a physical attack. Amaranta was clawing at her face like a rabid animal. "YOU CAN MAKE FUN OF ME ALL YOU WANT, BUT NO ONE INSULTS DRACO!"

Just when Amaranta was about to draw blood, she felt a strong hand hoist her up and off of the girl. Amaranta kicked and flailed.

"Stop fighting this instant!" Professor Snape's voice roared in the empty hallway. "20 points from Slytherin! Stop squirming, now!"

Amaranta fell limp at the sound of Snape's anger. Finally she noticed that she no longer held her potted plant. It lay in a pile of pebbles and broken pottery. "BAMBOO!" She cried, literally. In her fury, she had flung her plant to the side, causing it to shatter on the floor. She struggled against Snape's firm grip. "Bamboo! Bamboo!"

"Stop…this…instant…_Repairo!" _Snape flicked his wand in the plant's direction, and it all came back together as if it had never been broken. He let Amaranta run towards it as he turned to Dianthe who had picked herself up. "Miss Greene, go to the Hospital Wing to get your wounds looked at, meanwhile," he grabbed Amaranta by the arm, "I'm going to have a chat with this delinquent here."

He dragged the weeping Amaranta to his office. He sat her in the hard, wooden chair, and he himself sat in his more comfortable chair behind the desk. He watched the girl as she hugged the plant closely. "I'm sorry for dropping you like that, Mr. Bamboo," she sobbed.

To Snape's surprise, the plant caressed her cheek gently with one of its leaves.

"Are you trying to comfort me?" Amaranta smiled through her tears. "Thank you."

"Might I ask why you were barbarically beating Miss Dianthe Greene?" Snape intruded her little heart-felt moment with the plant.

A little smirk shadowed Amaranta's lips, and she tried to look as regretful as possible. "She insulted Draco, sir," she answered with a steady voice. "I admit; I lost my temper. It was wrong of me, I apologize."

"An apology will not get you out of detention," Snape drawled.

"Of course not," Amaranta said with all sincerity.

"I want you in my office for the next three nights at six o'clock, to receive your punishment."

"Ok."

Snape looked at the girl with vexation. He didn't expect her to agree so readily. He was about to tell her to get out when she spoke up first.

"Professor, have you ever been in love?"

"I'm afraid that's a little too personal of a question, Amaranta."

"Sorry, I'm not trying to pry; I'm just looking for advice."

"I don't think I'm fit to give advice on love. Try asking one of the female teachers, or Madam Pomfrey."

"I wouldn't trust their advice," Amaranta frowned. "They look too happy."

Snape raised an interested eyebrow. "And what makes you think my advice would be any better?"

Amaranta looked at him with her green eyes and then looked away, a slight blush on her cheeks. "Because Draco trusts you," she murmured, then louder, "I don't want to know about your personal life—although I'm sure it's very interesting—I just want to know if you've ever been in a similar situation and how you coped with it."

"You have a very unique situation, I'm sure," Snape looked uninterested.

"Just answer me this, have you ever loved someone and had them ignore you? Have you ever been isolated, but not all at the same time?"

"How about you tell me what's going on, and using my past experience, _I'll_ tell you what to do?" Snape suggested. He had a feeling this girl wouldn't leave until she found some form of advice.

"Ok," Amaranta smiled. "Well, you see, Harry has lessons with Professor Dumbledore, so I only get to see him in class, and well, that wouldn't bother me, except for the fact that no one will tell me what the lessons are about, but Hermoine and Ron get to know. It's just a little irritating that no one tells me, and if it was only that, I'd probably manage, but Draco has been disappearing a lot lately, and he won't tell me what he's doing either, and Dianthe said they were having a rendezvous and I just…"

Tears welled up in her eyes again. "The only reason I could live with the Death Eaters was because Draco was with me. And I'm afraid that he, or anybody, doesn't like me anymore and he'll leave me and I'll be all alone." Amaranta hugged the plant closer. "I hated visiting Lord Voldermort. Sometimes I wanted to feel pain just to know I was still alive. Draco was the only one there who didn't want to kill me. I bore through it all, just knowing I could see his happy face again. If he leaves me now…I…don't know what I'll do."

Amaranta bit her lower lip to try and hold the oncoming rush of tears. The bamboo plant beside her looked like it hadn't been watered in years.

"Have you ever considered that they don't want to tell you for your protection?" Snape said with an irritated sigh. "I'm sure that Dumbledore has a very good reason for not letting you in on the lessons he's having with Potter. Did either of them ever say they don't trust you?"

"Well…no," Amaranta admitted as she began to calm down.

"Has Draco ever kept anything from you without good reason?"

"No…"

"Well, then," Snape laid back in his chair. "You must trust in them, and believe that they'll tell you when it's right."

Amaranta wiped her tears away, and the bamboo plant slowly began to revive. "Thanks…Professor…" She looked at him with puffy eyes and smiled kindly. "You're not nearly as annoying as Harry says you are."

The corners of Snape's lips twitched at that last piece of information. "You may leave now. Don't forget your detention tomorrow."

"I won't," Amaranta said, getting up. "I look forward to our detention." And she walked out of the office.

_What a strange girl,_ Snape thought to himself as he busied himself with work.

* * *

Weeks went by, and before any of the students at Hogwarts knew it, Christmas was right around the corner. The new Potions teacher, Slughorn, had decided to hold a Christmas party for his close circle of friends. It seemed everyone who was anyone had been invited, well, except for Draco Malfoy. Which put him in a rather nasty mood.

"Oh, hello, Draco!" Amaranta's face lit up when she saw her best friend walk in through the dungeon door into the Slytherin Common Room, but her face dropped when she saw a familiar blonde right behind him. "Oh…hello, there, Dianthe." Dislike was obvious in her voice.

"Oh, hello, Amaranta," Dianthe smiled, overly cheerful. "Dracy" Amaranta's eye twitched at the cheesy nickname, "and I just got back from our date!"

"Don't be silly," Draco blushed furiously. "It wasn't a date."

"You're right, it was more of a make-out session," Dianthe giggled, before she pecked Draco on the cheek and bounced off.

Draco glared at her, but she only smiled.

_Sleep with one eye open, _Amaranta glared into Dianthe's retreating back before giving Draco a questioning look.

"It wasn't anything like that," Draco protested. "We just met up in the hallway, I swear."

"Whatever," Amaranta averted her eyes, trying to look uncaring. "So what were you _really_ doing out past curfew?"

"Working out my plan," Draco sighed. He had been bombarded with this question by her and Snape, and it was starting to get on his last nerve.

"And what might that plan be?"

"A secret, that's what it is!"

"Come on, Draco, why can't you tell me?"

"Because I don't feel like telling you, alright?" Draco stood up.

"Why can't you trust me?" Amaranta shouted angrily, standing up too. "Just a little, not all of it! It's dangerous to wander around alone at night! What if Filch catches you?"

"I'm not a child, Amaranta," Draco shouted furiously. "I don't need you to mother me!"

"I'm not mothering you, prat," Amaranta returned with just as much ferocity. "Do you think I enjoy worrying over you? How do you think I feel not knowing where you are half the time? Not knowing anything!"

"Frankly, Amaranta, I don't give a rat's arse!"

"Well since you feel that way, then I guess you won't care if I just hang out with Harry from now on, since at least he _tells_ me what he's doing before he leaves," and then more quietly, "even if he leaves out the details."

Amaranta grabbed her bamboo plant, which split one of its leaves into five sections, resembling a hand, which flipped Draco off, before returning to its normal, leafy state.

A night's sleep didn't help to cure their animosity, and the two spent their entire day ignoring each other.

"How come you're eating with us?" Ron asked her at lunch that day, which was a Malfoy day, by the way. "Did you and Malfoy have a row?"

"Yes," Amaranta sighed heavily, taking a particularly vicious bite out of her roast beef. "He keeps disappearing at night, and he won't tell me what's going on, and he's being a total arse about it. I'm sorry to admit it, but if he told me to keep it a secret form you, I would, which is why I'm wondering why he doesn't trust me. I tell him everything, well, except about your lessons with Dumbledore, Harry, I don't really think he needs to know about that. I hate being left in the dark about things."

"I'm sorry we can't tell you anything," Harry said empathetically. He knew how she felt. "I trust you completely. I know you wouldn't tell anything to Malfoy if we asked you not to."

"Thanks, Harry," Amaranta smiled. "I needed to hear those words."

Harry smiled too. There was just something about Amaranta that made him long for her company. He began to look forward to Harry days and dread Malfoy days.

"I've got a thought," Harry smiled mischievously. "Amaranta, do you want to come with me to Slughorn's party this weekend?"

"You mean the party that Draco wasn't invited to?" Amaranta mirrored Harry's smile. "Why, Harry, I'd simply be delighted to accompany you! Oh, I'm going to tell Parkinson about this new turn! I'm sure she'd be delighted to relay the message to Draco! Bye!" Amaranta skipped off towards the Slytherin table.

"Harry, are you sure you're not—?" Ron began.

"For the last time, I'm not in love with Amaranta!" Harry interjected him.

"I was just gonna ask if you weren't going to finish your dinner roll, mate."

"Oh, no, not really," Harry flushed as he tossed his roll to Ron.

Weasley caught it and exchanged looks with Hermoine.

* * *

The day of the Christmas party, Amaranta met up with Harry at Gryffindor tower.

"Sorry, to make you climb all the—" Harry stopped when he saw Amaranta.

She was wearing a black dress trimmed with dark crimson lacing, with a black ribbon tied around her neck. It was very gothic, but for some reason extremely fitting for Amaranta. It brought out the green in her eyes and made her hair look lighter. It made Harry feel very aware of his plain sweater and slacks.

"Is it too much?" Amaranta blushed, becoming conscious of Harry's gaze. "It's the only nice thing I own." Amaranta frowned. "Draco bought it for me two years ago."

Harry's heart sank. _Why'd she have to mention that guy?_

"Well, uh, shall w get going then?" Harry motioned forward.

Amaranta nodded and they walked to the entrance hall. Harry was surprised at the large amount of girls lurking there. They all began to whisper the moment they noticed him. The hall was crowded and dim, the only source of light being the golden glow of the chandelier in which actual fairies were fluttering around. The music in the distance was mixed in with the great murmur of talk happening all around the party. House elves dodged through the maze of legs, carrying silver platters of food.

"Harry, m'boy!" boomed Slughorn. "Come in, Come in. Oh, who might this little ray of sunshine be?"

"This is—" Harry began but Amaranta finished his sentence for him.

"Amaranta, Professor Slughorn," she smiled politely. "I sit next to Harry in your class."

"Oh, yes, yes," Slughorn said. "I didn't recognize you in that lovely dress. You're not much of a potions master as Harry, here."

"I'm afraid potion making isn't my strong point," Amaranta continued to smile, though Harry could see the corners of her lips twitch. "But I'm quite a wiz at Defense Against The Dark Arts, if I do say so myself. Not to mention, I'm a Blo—"

Harry slapped his hand over her mouth without moving the rest of his body. "She really is a good witch at Defense Against the Dark Arts!" he exclaimed with a fake smile. "A little talkative, though," he said more quietly as he growled at Amaranta, who looked up at him innocently.

Slughorn didn't pay the least attention to Amaranta near slip-up. He only had eyes for Harry. "There are so many people I'd like you to meet!" He grabbed Harry by the arm, and dragged him purposefully through the crowd. Harry seized Amaranta's hand and pulled her along with him.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of _Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires —_ and, of course, his friend Sanguini."

Worple, a short stacked man, shook Harry's hand enthusiastically. The vampire, Sanguini, merely nodded. He was tall with dark shadows under his eyes and he looked extremely bored. A throng of girls eyed him, giggling, and Amaranta, Harry was afraid, was staring at him too.

"Hi, Mr. Sanguini, if you drink a drunkard's blood, does that mean you get intoxicated too?"

Sanguini simply nodded.

"So that's why vampires usually stay towards healthy women," Amaranta rubbed her chin like a detective, smiling at finding the newest clue.

That was the last of their conversation Harry heard before he was bombarded by Worple.

"Harry, Potter, I am simply delighted! I was just saying to Professor Slughorn the other day, Where is the biography of Harry Potter? I would be delighted to write it myself. People are craving to know more about you, boy, craving! If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews—_Sanguini, stay here!" _The vampire was slowly leading Amaranta away. "Here, have a pasty," Worple grabbed one from a passing elf and shoved it into Snaguini's hand.

Harry saw Amaranta's frozen face. She wasn't looking at the vampire who was probably about to devour her just as he was doing to the pasty. She was looking over at Dianthe who stood there with none other than Draco Malfoy.

"Excuse me, Mr. Sanguini," she said, a fierce look in her eye. "I need to go rip my friend into shreds. We'll have to continue this discussion later." She waved at him without looking away from her target, and walked off.

"Oh ho! It would seem my vampire friend here isn't the only one with an uncontrollable bloodlust!" Worple exclaimed, before turning back to Harry. "But seriously, think of the gold you could make, my dear boy—"

"I'm definitely not interested," Harry said, watching Amaranta. "I need to follow her, sorry."

Amaranta marched angrily towards Dianthe. The pretty blonde wire a strapless dress with a red rose in her hair and red stiletto heels. Draco wore one of his finest robes, tailored specifically to his measurements. She wasn't curious about why Dianthe was here. Someone as perfect as her was sure to be in Slughorn's inner circle. She wanted to know why the uninvited Draco Malfoy was here.

"Fancy meeting you here, Dianthe," Amaranta smiled viciously.

"Oh, Amaranta, I didn't know you were noticed enough to get into here," Dianthe said with obvious condescension.

"It wasn't without Harry's help," Amaranta's smile grew more venomous.

"Oh, relying on Harry Potter, I see," Dianthe snorted, holding a glass of firewhiskey to her lips.

"So this must be your date here," Amaranta gestured to the proud-faced Draco. "I don't believe I've ever met him before, what's his name?"

"He's the sole heir to the Malfoy line, Draco Malfoy," she gave a little jingle in her giggle. "He's quite prestigious, you know, and very rich. A fine young man, sure to lead the wizarding world one day."

Draco smiled widely.

"Oh yes!" Amaranta exclaimed with a fake gasp. "I think I've heard Harry mention you before. You're the boy who was turned into a ferret in the 4th year. Oh and isn't your father in Azkaban right now? What was he charged with? Oh yes, wasn't he charged with being a Death Eater? You must have a lot of courage to still be able to hold your head up in society! How brave of you. Harry says you're a lovely Quidditch player. He says you always give him a good warm up in every match." Her smile was practically dripping with poison right then.

Draco didn't look pleased. Not one bit. His fists were clenched and his cheeks were red with humiliation. She had mentioned nearly everything that struck a painful chord in him. He opened his mouth to say something, but she completely ignored him, turning, instead to Dianthe.

She leaned closely so that only Dianthe could here her next words. "If I could strangle you right now, trust me, I would," she growled. The rose in Dianthe's hair wilted as quickly as if there was a sudden frost, and fell from her hair onto the floor.

Amaranta straightened her back looking ethereally pleased. "But it's so crowded in here," her polite voice had come back, "too many witnesses. Oh look, my Harry is here!"

Harry had finally escaped Worple and managed to weave his way through the crowd towards her. She wrapped her arms around his as soon as he arrived. "Harry, dear, lets find some more visually pleasing company," Harry noted the acidity in her voice, and didn't say a word. "Oh, look, I do believe I see our good friend Hermoine over there."

Amaranta pulled him away without another word. Harry turned to her.

"If you're going to regret it afterwards, then you shouldn't say anything in the first place," he spoke softly.

Her smile had dropped the minute they turned around, and now she looked more like someone had said those things to her. "I know I'm only stooping to her level, but every time I see her I just fly off he handle. I nearly tore her flesh off the other day."

Harry couldn't help it. He put a comforting hand on her cheek, turning her head to face him.

"Harry, Amaranta?"

Hermoine's voice made Harry jump involuntarily, and he immediately dropped his hand to his side. He sighed a sigh of relief when she didn't say anything on the intimate mood between the two.

"I was looking for you two, did you just get here?"

"Yeah, we just escaped from Dianthe," Harry said.

"Oh, I see," Hermoine looked at Amaranta. "I don't see why such a pompous girl should be here."

"Oh, you're just miffed because she scored higher than you on the History of Magic test," Harry rolled his eyes.

"It's totally unfair!" Hermoine raged. "She's relived that class so many times! I'm learning it all for the first time!"

Amaranta laughed, but to Harry it sounded like light sobs. There was an expression on her face which he had never seen before. The corners of her lips were tilted upward in something resembling a smile, and her eyebrows arched over her dull eyes, but there was no blood in her cheeks, no twinkle in her eye. She looked like a mannequin, and frankly, it disgusted Harry.


	20. Bonding With Amaranta

**A/N: **I've been getting into a lot of Harry Potter FF lately. (Mainly Tom/Harry pairing.) And I've seen some _pretty_ girly Harry's. It makes me question his gender...

**Disclaimer:** Shout out to my main girl, J.K. Rowling!

**Bonding With Amaranta**

When Harry first learned of the "Malfoy" and "Harry" days, he thought it was a superb idea. Since both Malfoy and Harry hated each others guts, it was a great day for them to spend plenty of time with Amaranta, without having to eat each other's brains out. But now he hated them more than he hated Malfoy, because that meant that Amaranta was alone and suffering every other day. Correction: she suffered everyday. And it angered Harry how he couldn't do anything about it.

Amaranta had gotten pretty good with her new smile. The whole artificialness of it sickened Harry so much he was becoming desperate for her to show any kind of expression, even if it were a painful one. She even fooled Hermoine whose womanly intuition he was sure would find something amiss.

"Harry, could you stop glowering so much?" Hermoine scolded him as they walked down the hallway. "I know you miss Amaranta, but don't take it out on the rest of the world. You're scaring everyone."

Never mind, her intuition was still sharp. "Sorry, I just hate how Malfoy treats her. It's not like it was her fault."

"Wow, Harry, you're just a smitten kitten, aren't you?" Ron exclaimed.

The blood rushed to Harry's cheeks. "No, I'm not! _Baubles_." The new password for the portrait of the fat lady was festive to match the season.

"Same to you," she said smoothly as the portrait swung open. Harry climbed in and found Neville, Seamus, and a few other boys playing with Exploding Snap Cards.

"Hey there, Harry," they all greeted him.

"Hi, guys," he sighed back at them, taking off his scarf.

"Well, it's obvious that you like flowers, Harry," Hermoine said, switching into code, so that the other Gryffindors wouldn't know what they were talking about. "You stare at them all the time when we're walking to class."

"No, I don't," Harry blushed. "They just evoke certain pheromones that make you want to protect them. Besides, don't you think it makes Hogwarts a much nicer place to live in?"

"What's that?" Seamus looked at the three from his card game. "Harry likes flowers?"

"Yeah, but he's too shy to admit it," Ron snorted.

"Well, there's nothing wrong about liking flowers, Harry," Neville smiled kindly at him. "I think they're quite lovely myself."

"Yeah, it doesn't make you any less of a man."

"Thanks guys, but its not being less of a man, that I'm worried about," Harry didn't look at them, but sat in one of the armchairs. "I'm worried of becoming pricked by the thorns."

"Huh?" the guys all looked at each other.

"Oh, Harry," Hermoine sat in one of the armchairs close to him. "You won't get pricked by thorns, because this flower has no thorns. Flowers don't reject the sun."

"But what if its one of those flowers that only opens up to the moon?" Harry argued. "_He's_ the moon."

"All flowers need sunlight, Harry," said Hermoine. "Maybe it's better if this flower stops relying on the dim light of the moon."

"I can't help it if it leans towards the moon!" Harry nearly shouted.

The other boys looked curiously at each other. "Suddenly, I'm beginning to think they aren't talking about the same flowers I'm thinking of," Seamus whispered to Cormac.

"When you see a pretty flower, what do you want to do?" Harry asked.

"Well, it seems like the moon wants to pluck it and keep it for itself," Ron snorted again, hands in his pockets.

"More like run it over with lawn mower, the way he's treating it," Harry grumbled.

"Well, what do you want to do?" Hermoine asked.

"I just want to protect it," Harry sighed into his hands. "Let it have as much sunlight as it needs and as much open space as it wants."

"But the flower is wilting right now," Hermoine said with a tiny grin. "I'm sure the flower would revive if it knew of your feelings."

"Yeah, you should go for it, mate," Ron added. "We got your back. Besides, after you tell the flower, that means you'll get to water it!" Ron winked.

"Ron!" Hermoine hit him with a red face.

"What? It's not like I said 'pollinate'!" Ron rubbed his throbbing temple.

"I think I'll go get some homework done," Harry chuckled. Picking up his things which he dropped on the floor.

"Oh, hey, are you going to do that Transfiguration essay?" Ron asked, escaping Hermoine. "Do it with me, I don't get any of it."

"I swear," Hermoine hissed under her breath as they walked up the stairs into the boys' dormitories. "Ron can be such a pervert sometimes."

Harry would like to say he "bumped into" Amaranta, but it would be more truthful to say he "ran around the school a few times, trying his best not to look frantic" before he finally found Amaranta laying in the shade of a tree. What was she doing? It's winter; it's freezing outside! He walked robotically towards her, anxious to see her, yet afraid all at the same time.

"Hey, Ama—" Harry stopped when he saw her eyes flutter open. "Oh, I'm sorry, were you asleep?" _Dammit!_ He cursed at missing the chance to see her sleeping face, which Malfoy, he was sure, has seen plenty of times.

"Nah, I was just taking a quick nap for lunch," Amaranta rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes.

"What's wrong? Have you been losing sleep?" He began to fret. "Did you eat something before you took your nap?"

"Yeah," Amaranta lied.

"Malfoy is the reason you haven't been able to sleep, isn't he?" Harry said with a gloomy face. "You've been having rows with him every night so you can't sleep."

Amaranta froze. "Don't be silly! Draco and I are ignoring each other; of course we don't have rows." _I always go to him to apologize, but we always end up fighting,_ Amaranta thought.

He frowned at her. "I hate him."

"Harry —"

"No! I hate that guy for doing this to you! Don't you use that fake smile with me! It may work on Ron and Hermoine, but it won't work with me! Even though it's winter, you're bamboo plant should be fine," Harry pointed out.

Amaranta quickly tried to cover up the bamboo plant she usually carried with her. It was shriveled and beige. "I know I'm killing Mr. Bamboo, but I can't help it," Amaranta looked on the verge of tears, or maybe it was just the cold. "I try to be happy, I really do! Oh, Harry, I don't want him to die because of me!"

Harry couldn't help it. Why did she have to be so cute when she was sad? He fell to his knees next to her, and wrapped his skinny arms around her. He could feel her warm tears against the side of his face.

"H-Harry?!"

He didn't speak. What could he say? Oh, you were really sad, and I really like you, so I just felt like forcing a hug on you? Yeah, that's right, he liked her. He wouldn't run away anymore. He thought it was fine to leave her in the hands of Malfoy, since she liked him so much, but not if he was going to shred her like this.

"Amaranta, I—"

"Oh, my gosh!" A very unwanted voice shouted behind Harry, drawing unnecessary eyes to them.

He quickly jumped off of Amaranta and flicked around, protectively, in front of her. Dianthe Greene was staring and point at them, looking victorious.

"Does Amaranta like Harry Potter? There's no way!" she proclaimed loud enough for everyone to hear. "And here I thought she liked Draco Malfoy, but she's already so quickly changing her views? I didn't know she was so promiscuous!"

"Hey, shut up!" Harry yelled, instantly regretting it. It only drew more attention and more whispers. He could feel Amaranta quivering behind him.

But now Dianthe spoke more quietly. "And after I went through all that trouble too. Looks like I'm just gonna have to change my targets, then, huh, Amaranta?"

"Don't you—" Amaranta spoke out in anger but froze, after she stepped out form behind Harry. It felt like the whole school was there, watching them. Amaranta panicked. Never before had so many eyes been solely on her. She flicked around and ran through the open double doors.

"Amaranta!" Harry called after her, but she was long gone. Harry flicked around to give Dianthe a piece of his mind, but she was already gone. _Argh! Dammit! Why does everything always go wrong for me?_

Amaranta was in complete chaos. She sat on her bed, hugging her legs and rocking back and forth. It also didn't help that she was skipping Charms class right now.

_Me? Like Harry!?_ Amaranta's mind shouted, but outside, her face betrayed nothing, _There's no way! I mean, he's a great friend, but…I always thought I liked Draco…Could Dianthe be right? I like Harry more than Ron, even Hermoine, but I never once considered him anything more. I can't possibly…What happens if Dianthe tells Draco?! He'll kill Harry for sure! I don't want Harry to die._

_That's it! _A small but of the weight on Amaranta's shoulders had been lifted, but not all of it. _I've just gotta avoid Harry for a while. That way, even if Dianthe tells him, then it'll just seem like I was hanging out with Harry to make him jealous. Yeah, that's it. I've just gotta lie low and talk to no one for a couple of weeks. _

She felt a slight twang in her chest. She was going to be all alone for at least two weeks. The thought of having no one to talk to, not even sitting near any friends was terrible.

_But I've gotta do it,_ Amaranta told herself. _For Harry…for Draco…I can't let Dianthe win!_

Getting off of her bed, Amaranta grabbed her things and boldly strode out of the Slytherin dormitory with new resolve.

It took Dianthe a great deal of self-control to sustain from laughing. Amaranta had fallen right into her trap! Just as she had predicted, Amaranta avoided both Draco and Harry (and to avoid Harry was to avoid Hermoine and Ron). For these past two weeks, Amaranta lived her school life alone and silent. She grew more and more fidgety, and even more to her luck, Draco was too busy with his "plan" to eve notice the stressful situation Amaranta was in. Dianthe was positively beaming.

Who would've thought the annoying little brat would've taken her words to heart? Who knows, maybe she _did_ like Harry Potter. That would certainly make things interesting.

_Still, if I want to fully enjoy punishing her, she needs to know the crime she committed, so then I can hear her grovel and beg for mercy!_ Dianthe waited until she reached the girls' bathroom, before she released her maniacal laughter.

When Dianthe walked out of the bathroom, she spotted her enemy twitching down the hallway. Perfect. Now she could move on to phase two of her evil plan. With a few flicks of her wand, Dianthe slowly guided Amaranta into a deserted corridor. Not bothering to hide at all, Dianthe walked right behind the smaller Blommarian and pointed her wand straight at her back. Muttering a few words, a jet of blue light shot into Amaranta's back, traveled up her spinal cord, and lodged itself in her brain. Eyes wide with shock, Amaranta fell flat on her face.

Dianthe stood triumphantly over her prey. "Sorry, sis, but in order to open your heart, I had to weaken your mind," Dianthe said solemnly over the unconscious body. Without another word, she pointed her wand at the young girl's back and said, "_Revealus Memorum." _


	21. Sisters With Amaranta

**A/N: **This is Amaranta's dream/remembering the past, so everything is italicised. This one is pretty long. But you never would've guessed that Dianthe was originally Hufflepuff?

Disclaimer: I own these characters, but not Harry Potter, that goes to J.K. Rowling.

WARNING: Blood and cussing

**Sisters With Amaranta**

_It was the first day they had ever met. It was the 18__th__ of September, 1885, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Amaranta, a young girl with long lashes, wide eyes, and straight, wispy, dirty-blonde hair had just been sorted into Hufflepuff. That may have been the first time the Sorting Hat had difficulty in choosing between Slytherin or Hufflepuff. Amaranta sat at the long dinner table, received by applause from all over the Great Hall. _

_She immediately set her head in her hands, and watched lazily as other kids her age sat timidly on the stool, with the patched up, pointed hat. It had been here since the creation of the school, and yet it didn't lose any vigor in calling out the name of the next house. _

"_Ravenclaw!"_

"_Slytherin!"_

"_Gryffindor!"_

"_Gryffindor!"_

"_Ravenclaw!"_

_Amaranta's stomach gave an audible growl. When was it going to end so she could eat? She glanced up anxiously at the Headmistress who made no move. Only watched calmly. _

"_Hufflepuff!" _

_The children around her roared with excitement. Amaranta gave a snort. What were these kids so happy about? It was just another gutless brat they'd have to deal with. Amaranta was happy she got into one of the smallest houses. She didn't really like dealing with people or crowded places. _

"_May I sit by you?" _

_Amaranta looked up, bored, but her mouth dropped slightly when she saw who had talked to her: someone she had never seen before in her life. _

_Amaranta couldn't quite place it, but she felt a sudden kinship towards this girl, as if she had just found her long-lost twin. The girl was rather tall, with wavy blonde hair and a cute button nose. Her flushed cheeks complemented her cherry red lips well, and her black robes only made her emerald green eyes shine brightly. Yes, those eyes…So similar to her own. _

"_Uh…did you not hear me?" the girl said, but not impolitely. _

_Amaranta didn't even realize she had been staring. "Oh, um, yeah, you can sit there." _

"_Thank you," the girl smiled cutely and sat in the wooden stool next to her. "I'm Dianthe Greene." _

"_My name is Amaranta," said girl answered, looking away, less she caught her bubbly mood. "Just Amaranta. I don't have a last name."_

"_Huh? Why not?" _

"_I'm adopted," Amaranta answered animatedly. "Since they're not my real parents, I don't feel like using their last name. They don't mind either. They value my independence." That was just a nice way to say that her parents didn't have a backbone, and were unable to force the young girl to use their name. They always smiled and told her that they would always love her no matter who she was. But Amaranta saw through their silly façade. They were afraid of her, and she knew it. Who could blame them; after all, she wasn't human. _

"_Well, then, since I have no choice but to use your first name," Dianthe reasoned, her eyes sparkling, "why don't you call me Dianthe as well?" _

"_Sure, whatever," Amaranta continued to avert her eyes. Nevermind, maybe this girl wasn't anything special after all. She just seemed like a ditz to her. Another air-headed idiot who wanted to tie her down. She had encountered girls like this before, who only acted nice to gain attention. Amaranta hated fakes. _

"_And now, let the feast begin!" the two girls heard the loud, melodical voice of the Headmistress, and then all sorts of foods appeared on all of the tables. _

"_Will you stop following me?" Amaranta grumbled. _

"_What? Why?" The taller blonde called to her, not needing to take big strides to catch up with Amaranta's small legs. _

"_Because, you're loud and annoying," Amaranta said bluntly. Picking up her pace. "Besides, you're class is the other way." _

"_But silence is so lonely, isn't it?" The blonde easily kept up with the shorter girl. "Besides, I don't really have very many friends, and I thought it'd be nice if we could be friends." _

"_What are you talking about?" Amaranta didn't turn to look at the other blonde. "A cute bubblehead like you who won't shut up? Aren't those usually the kind of people who are surrounded by friends? Stop chasing after me and go get some real friends." _I don't want to ruin your school life.

"_But I want to be friends with _you_," Dianthe protested. "I don't know what it is, by I feel like we could be sisters!" _

_Amaranta stopped and looked at her, before continuing on. Maybe this girl wasn't as dense as she first suspected. "Well, no matter how much you want to be my friend, I don't want to be yours. Now get to class."_

_The blond watched sadly as the stoic girl strode around the corner and out of sight. Crestfallen, she walked dejectedly back whence she came. Amaranta continued through the hallway and into the dungeons for her Potions lesson. _

_It was a mixed class, the majority Slytherin, with about six Ravenclaw, two Gryffindors, and one Hufflepuff, her. It didn't bother her that she was the only one of her House in that period. She liked how everyone ignored her. It felt nice to be left alone. It was here that she could resuscitate from the overload of smiles she had to face everyday. _

"—_my father one of the largest mandrake plantations in all of England," Olicia Golliver projected her voice across her Slytherin Admirers. It was people like her that reminded Amaranta why she was glad not to be in the Slytherin House. _

_No one noticed the small Hufflepuff as she walked into the class room. Upon long tables were rows of cauldrons, awaiting their magical ingredients. There was only one spot left, the front row, next to a black-haired Gryffindor, Jake Pele. Amaranta would've preferred the back, possibly next to one of the quiet Ravenclaws, but she supposed she had little choice in the manner, for arriving late to class. Luckily the teacher wasn't in yet. _

"_Hello, I don't think I've ever seen you in here, before, are you new?" Pele turned towards her, with a happy grin. _

"_I've attended this class since the beginning of the term like the rest of the pupils," Amaranta said testily, but tried to keep her voice even and her face indifferent. _

"_Oh, I never noticed you," Jake said bluntly. "You must have hidden in the back. You aren't very noticeable." _

_Amaranta suppressed her rising anger. She couldn't get caught up in his flow, so instead, she just shot him a cold look, and busied her self with unpacking her book bag. She hated guys like Jake Pele the most. He was captain of the Quidditch team, even though he was only in his second year, his hair was always windswept, though Amaranta caught him trying to comb it a few times. He came from a pureblood family with a distinguishable amount of wealth, and all of his 'friends' were in upper-class families as well. He believed that he was born for the sole purpose to be worshipped by all the inferior humans around him. He had tanned, yet creamy skin, and a confident smirk. His chiseled features framed his gorgeous blue eyes which sparkled with delight at everything. The type of guy any girl would fall for, and the type of guy Amaranta detested immensely._

"_Oh, so you don't think I'm worth your breath?" Jake was leaning his head on his knuckles, staring interestedly at Amaranta, a truly delighted smirk on her face. _

"_I hate artificial things," Amaranta answered with a sneer, before returning to messing with her things, trying to look extremely busy. _

"_Well, I've been called many things, but never artificial," he laughed, his devilish tongue licking his lips before resting back in its cave. "Are you not simply charmed by me? I am unbelievably handsome, after all." _

"_Don't flatter yourself," Amaranta said flatly. _

"_Oh, I don't need to flatter myself," he didn't take his eyes off of her. "I was just stating a simple fact. I dislike lying." _

"_Oh, really?" Amaranta continued not to glare down at her books. "Are you saying that you never lied in your entire life, Mr. Pele?" _

"_Of course no!" He laughed, drawing attention to their conversation. "I was quite the deceiver when I was little. Not a single lick of truth ever left this mouth! But I dislike it now. I don't see the point in it. It always seems like a good idea at the time, but in the long run, karma will come back to get you." _

"_Karma?" Amaranta snorted. "If that's the case, I should be turning in my grave right now." _

"_Oh?" Jake raised an eyebrow. "Did you do something bad?" _

"_Yes, I killed a young wizard named Jake Pele because he wouldn't cease the nonsense that spewed from his mouth."_

_Jake laughed aloud again. "Oh, I think I'd be delighted if you were to kill me, Miss Amaranta." _

_For the first time in their conversation, Amaranta looked at him, although questioningly. She nearly blushed— _nearly _— when she found that he was still looking directly at her, smiling. _

"_As I thought, you have pretty eyes," he said softly. "They're very intimidating. A nice bold, green color. You know, Miss Amaranta —yes, I knew your name from the beginning, but it wasn't a lie that I never noticed you before, I just hazard a guess that you were the Amaranta I heard in roll call, but never actually saw—they say that the eyes are the windows to the soul." _

"_Well, it seems that your soul is very flashy," Amaranta looked away again. _

"_Thank you, I like to catch attention," he lifted his head off of his knuckles. _

"_Everyone, settle down!" the teacher, a thin, lanky man, walked into the dungeon. "Excuse my tardiness, I had a matter with Professor Ludwig to take care of. Now, if you would all please turn in your books to page 536, and we'll begin the lesson."_

_Amaranta did as instructed, thankful, yet slightly disappointed that the conversation was over. As she flipped through her book, one of the pages suddenly turned blank, curious, Amaranta stopped and looked at it. Slowly, words began to appear:_

You're a very perceptive witch, Miss Amaranta, however I'm anything _but_ artificial.

_Amaranta glanced at the both standing next to her, grinning broadly, wand in his hand, under the table. _

_Dianthe sat on a stool in a ring of girls. The other girls in the class had been pestering her to buy them some Punching Peaches from Bosley's Candy Shoppe. The teacher had been called out of the class by another professor, so the class went up in total anarchy. _

"_But…I don't get allowance for another month, and my mother told me not to waste it on sweets," Dianthe objected timidly. _

"_But don't you want to be our friend?" A Ravenclaw girl said. _

"_Yeah, if you were our friend, you'd buy us something," another Ravenclaw girl added in. _

"_Are you going to selfishly reject us?" A Slytherin girl said. _

"_Well, no, but…"_

_Amaranta sat in her desk, reading a book. Dianthe kept throwing her anxious glances, but Amaranta never lifted a finger. She really didn't like situations like this. It always made her feel like she was the bad guy if she didn't help out. Not to mention she found Dianthe eating alone lately. No one really seemed to care for her. _

"_Come on, Dianthe!" _

Dammit, I'm such a softie,_ Amaranta grumbled, before standing up. "Hey, would you girls mind keeping it down? It's hard to read a book, when you're snobby voices are penetrating the air." _

"_You just shut it, Huffypuff," one of the girls spat at her. "This is none of your business." _

"_Oh, but it is my business," Amaranta sighed. What was she getting herself into? "You see, that's my friend you're trying to press into buying treats for you, and I don't appreciate you trying to con money out of her. If you can't afford it yourself, then you'll just have to live without. Besides, you don't look like you need anymore sugar."_

_Dianthe's face simply lit up like instant morning. The girls around her however, looked none too pleased. They all took out their wands, pointing them dangerously at Amaranta. _

"_You want to lose an eye, limey?" the girl growled. _

"_You want to gain a tail, fatty?" Amaranta countered. _

_The girl moved the wand above her head to cast a spell, but Amaranta was quicker. "_Vicissitudo!"

_The girl who had drawn her wand against Amaranta suddenly grew a curly tail and a flat, snorting nose. She had turned into a pig. _

"_Sorry," Amaranta said sarcastically. "That was the only thing I could think of when I saw your face." _

_At that moment, the professor walked in to find a pig in robes, with Amaranta pointing her wand at it. _

"_Miss Amaranta! Detention after school, and 50 points from Hufflepuff!" she bellowed._

_From that point onward, Dianthe and Amaranta became best friends. They were inseparable, with the exclusion of Divination and Potions. Jake Pele had also squeezed his way into Amaranta's close triangle of friends. Although his fan girls weren't to happy about this aspect._

_However, things changed when the third weekend of winter came along. Despite the school rules, the trio had ventured into the Forbidden Forest. The massive forest looked more like a graveyard, full of dead, hibernating trees, barren of life, though the noises inside suggested otherwise. _

"_Come on, you two," Jake stopped to wait for the two girls. "You guys are so slow." _

"_Hey, Robinson Crusoe, we can't venture too far in, or we'll get into the centaurs territory," Amaranta warned. _

"_We're not even supposed to be here," Dianthe glanced over her shoulder worriedly. "Come on guys, we'll get in trouble."_

"_You're not scared, are you?" Jake teased. It was on his bet that they even ventured into the eerie forest. _

"_O-of course not!" Dianthe objected, a flush upon her cheeks. "I just don't want to spend detention over the Christmas holiday!" _

_Jake smirked, causing Dianthe to blush deeper. _

_Amaranta didn't pay attention to the conversation between the two teens, although she couldn't but note that Dianthe's red cheeks weren't from the cold. She was staring at the trees around her. They were _shivering.

This isn't my doing,_ Amaranta thought. _I'm completely calm, so these trees shouldn't be moving. Unless…

_She glanced back at her trembling friend. _

"_Hey, Amaranta, where are you going?" Jake called after her. _

"_To a special spot I know of," Amaranta answered without turning her head. "Follow me." _

"_How do you know of this spot?" Dianthe asked, obediently following the purposeful stride of the smaller witch. "We're not supposed to be in here." _

"_I've broken more than one of the school's rules," Amaranta stated plainly, turning in her course a bit. _

"_Yes, you're the rowdiest Hufflepuff I've ever known," Jake laughed. "But that's why we love you." _

_Amaranta smiled and glanced back at her friends. Jake didn't lie. _

_Finally, Amaranta stopped, causing the other two to bump into her. It was so dark now that they were deep inside the forest. _

"Lumos!" _Jake's melodious voice rang through out the Forbidden Forest._

_The tip of his wand glowed, revealing a humongous oak tree, whose peak was invisible. It was wrinkled and it's branches bent over with old age. Amaranta simply looked at it while the others gaped in awe. _

"_This is the biggest tree in the whole Forbidden Forest," Amaranta informed them. "The forest was created from this one tree. All these trees that surround you were once the seeds of this tree. This forest is her children. All the creatures that live here look to the Mother Tree for guidance." _

"_How do you know all of this?" Dianthe gaped at her friend too._

"_Because she told me," Amaranta looked at them, completely serious. "Now, Dianthe, come over her, and place your hand on her trunk." _

"_Um…ok," Dianthe felt a bit nervous, but did as she was instructed. The bark was rough and grey. _

"_Now, close your eyes and think pleasing thoughts," Amaranta spoke softly. "Think of the one thing that makes you happiest, and concentrate on that thought."_

_Dianthe nodded and let the lids of her eyes fall shut. Her eyebrows knitted in concentration. Slowly, she began to relax and a big grin spread across her face. Just as Dianthe's smile grew wider, it seemed as if the giant oak tree sprang back to life, it's bark turning a light shade of brown, and thick, glossy leaves sprouting from it's branches. _

"_Bloody hell!" Jake breathed. _

"_What?" Dianthe opened her eyes, but as soon as she did, the tree quickly died again, losing all of its leaves the same way it gained them. But she caught a glimmer of the miracle she had just performed. She looked over at Amaranta, who, surprisingly, was grinning ear to ear. _

"_Oh, Dianthe!" she strangled the girl in a tight bear hug. "You don't know how happy this makes me! I finally found one of my own! Someone like me! Another Blommarian! I'm not alone!" _

"_What? Huh? Amaranta? You're not making sense!" Dianthe sweated nervously. "I don't understand what's going on."_

"_Me neither," Jake said, but today would not be the day that he lost his smirk. "But it was worth it to see Amaranta smile like that. I didn't know her mouth was that big."_

"_Oh, Dianthe! I'm so happy!" Amaranta was almost on the verge of tears. "Do you know what this means?"_

"_No, I don't," Dianthe cried. "So why don't you explain it to me!" _

"_Dianthe," Amaranta pulled her away. "I—no, we are not human! We're Blommarians, an extinct race of people with the power to manipulate the plants around them! Oh! For the longest time, I thought I was the only one left! But—oh, when I first saw you, I just knew, I just knew it!"_

"_Wait, what do you mean we're not human?" Dianthe looked a little disturbed. _

"_Well, we technically _are _human, just that we have the heart of a plant, the Heart Flower, if you will, which gives us the ability to manipulate the plants around us with our emotions! For instance, look around you." _

_The two looked around them selves, holding their glowing wands above their heads. The winter scenery had disappeared, replaced with lush, green grass, and blossoming trees, dancing merrily. _

"_Can't you tell how happy I am?" Amaranta positively beamed. "I'm trying to contain it, because I don't want to draw attention, but it's hard…oh, Dianthe, I'm so happy! We're like sisters!" _

_Slowly, it began to sink in. It was hard for Dianthe not to smile at her glowing friend. "If that's the case, then you should adopt my last name." _

"_Huh?" _

"_You shall be Amaranta Greene, from now on," Dianthe smiled brightly down at her. "We're sisters now!" _

_Amaranta hugged Dianthe tightly. "Thanks, sis!" _

_Their little secret only drew the three of them together. Now, they had their own little universe, and it was even more difficult for anyone to join them, like there was an invisible barrier around the three of them. Perhaps it was their closeness that destroyed them in the end._

_It was their 6__th__ year now in Hogwarts and February had come, and with it Valentine's Day. The castle was sprinkled with pink, red, white, and purple, and every girl was giggling as if they'd been hexed with a Tickling Hex. The three were no exception to this rule. _

"_So, are you going to give anyone a valentine, sis?" Dianthe asked dreamily. She was really into the whole love thing. _

_Amaranta didn't give a goblin about it. "No, I find this whole holiday stupid," she sighed. "I bet you it's all just a scam to profit the candy industry. Just a reason for everyone to buy useless stuff." _

"_Ah, don't be so heartless, Amaranta," Jake laughed. He was laughing a lot these days. "Although you may be right, it's also a way for people to confess their feelings easier. It's a time for love!"_

"_You just say that because you wake up in a mound of chocolate everyday," Amaranta scoffed. _

"_Don't tell me that after all these years, there isn't anyone that you admire?" Dianthe said._

"_Not in the way you're thinking, no," Amaranta twirled her pasta with her fork. "You two are the only people I need."_

"_That's very sweet of you to say so," Jake grinned wider, "but every girl dreams of being confessed to. Even you are no exception, Amaranta."_

"_Yeah, I heard that that Johnny Hampleton was going to ask you out on Valentine's day," Dianthe raised her eyebrows in a hinting suggestion. _

"_I don't care who tries to court me, but I'll reject all of them," Amaranta took a bite of her dinner. "It's not like anyone would ask me out anyway."_

"_Don't be so sure of that," Jake murmured, looking away. _

_Dianthe thought he was looking towards one of the Ravenclaw boys, so she only giggled. _

"_Well, Dianthe needs me to help reject all the men who are going to try and woo her," Amaranta said. "I bet you she's going to hook over forty men this year!" _

"_Nah, more like fifty!" Jake smirked._

"_Please guys," Dianthe blushed and tried to hide her head._

_The signal for the end of dinner had announced itself so the children got up and walked to their respective dormitories. They bid their good nights to Jake and headed off to the Hufflepuff dorms. _

"_But really, sis, why don't you ever go out with anyone?" Amaranta spoke seriously when they were alone. "The whole time you've been here, you've rejected every man that's come up to you. Do you just have really high standards, or…?"_

"_No, actually…" Dianthe looked away, her face beet red. "There's someone I like. I've liked them since the first year."_

"_And he hasn't asked _you_ out yet? This guy must be addled in the head!" _

_Dianthe giggled. "Maybe, but I plan to ask him out this year, since I'm running out of time."_

"_Who is it?" _

"…_Jake…"_

_Amaranta couldn't deny the painful twist she felt in her heart. Why did it hurt her so to know that her sister and best friend would become a couple? Surely Jake wouldn't reject someone as beautiful as Dianthe? Not to mention that it would make things awkward. Why did she feel depressed at the thought of the two of them getting together? "Wow, I never even knew…Shows what a sister I am! Well, I wish you luck."_

"_Thanks sis!" Dianthe hugged Amaranta tightly as they walked up the stares into their dormitories and readied for bed. _

_Amaranta had trouble sleeping that night. She couldn't get this latest discovery off her mind. Why? Why did she frown at the prospect of her two friends becoming a couple? She couldn't be jealous, could she? Who was she jealous of? Jake or Dianthe? The thought of some guy taking away Dianthe was vexing to her, but the thought of some girl taking away Jake made a beast she never knew existed within her growl with distaste. No, she just didn't want things to get awkward. If Dianthe and Jake became a couple, she would feel left out. That was it. She just didn't want to become the third wheel. It wasn't like she had _feelings_ or anything for Jake, right?_

_The fateful day had finally come. If it wasn't for her expert stoicism, Amaranta would have feared that her two friends would've noticed her unease. The red and pink decorations felt even more disgusting than usual. Amaranta sat on a windowsill and stared at the winter scene beyond. The cold wasn't as intense as it had been in January, but there was still a frost over the earth. Amaranta gave a slight shiver, dreaming of summer where it would be nice and warm. _

_She flicked around when she felt a weight on her shoulders. Jake was standing there, smiling at her and his winter robe was on her shoulders. "Thanks," Amaranta murmured, and turned back to looking out the window so Jake wouldn't notice how truly happy she actually was. _

"_You don't really like winter, do you?" Jake said, standing a bit closer. "It's understandable since you're part plant." _

"_It's only my heart, remember?" Amaranta tried her best not to look at him, and was thankful that the window was too frosty to show her reflection. "And I don't really _hate _it, it's just an uncomfortable climate. And it's always so cloudy." _

_Jake chuckled. "Even now, you still exceed my expectations." _

_Amaranta turned around, her mouth open to question him, but stopped when she noticed his facial expression: he was frowning and looked quite serious. Amaranta tried to devoid herself of all emotion so he wouldn't notice her blush. _

"_Amaranta, I…love you," he had his arms on her shoulders now, steadily growing closer. "I can't deny it anymore. Ever since I first met you, you were always on my mind. You were the first girl who didn't try to flatter me. I was interested in you ever since then, and every day I'm with you is full of surprises! I've been meaning to tell you since too long ago, but I…I'm afraid that you'll reject me! But the thought of some guy like Hampleton trying to steal you away, I just can't contain myself anymore!" He pulled the girl towards him and smashed his lips onto hers. _

_At first, Amaranta was so shocked at Jake's ferocity that she didn't move, then she tried to struggle, and push him off, then she figured, what was the point in lying to herself? Jake purred with satisfaction when Amaranta returned the kiss, and he sought to deepen it. _

_Unbeknownst to them, Dianthe had been watching, a wrapped box crushed in her hand. _

"_Dianthe, what's wrong?" Amaranta tried to look into her sisters face, but she kept turning her head away. "Are you sick?" _

_Dianthe shook her head, and kept walking on, towards the lake. Jake was following them, his wary looks bouncing back and forth between the two girls. Maybe now wasn't a good time to tell Dianthe that he would be courting Amaranta from now on. _

"_Sis?" Amaranta desperately tried to coax an answer out of the silent witch, but she was only rewarded with silence. _

_Finally, Dianthe stopped at the edge of the lake, the cold, bitter air whistling around them. Suddenly, the grass all around them, brown from the cold, turned into an ashen black, and crumbled to the dirt. The weeping willow tree that lived on the lakeshore turned black and its weighed branches twisted into grotesque arms that shot out towards Jake, and wrapped around him, hoisting him into the air. _

"_Jake!" Amaranta called out to him, but knew it was useless. "Dianthe! What are you doing?! Stop this!" _

"_Shut up, you bitch!" Dianthe screamed, finally revealing her dark face. She looked positively sinister. _

"_Sis?" _

"_Don't call me with such a familiar name!" Dianthe spat at Amaranta. "You are no sister of mine! You're a traitor! You betrayed me!" She took out a single, rose from her chest pocket, and it slowly grew roots that wrapped around her arm. It's crimson petals withered to an ashen black and crumbled onto the dirt. With a wave of her arm, red tipped thorns lashed out at Amaranta who dodged lithely. _

"_Dianthe! Stop this now!" Amaranta couldn't help but look at the blonde with a look of disgust. She had never seen such an ugly flower, twisted by Dianthe's hate. _

"_No!" Dianthe punched her arm into the ground, and the thorns popped out of the ground and sliced through Amaranta's flesh. "You betrayed me! I told you that I liked Jake, and you stole him from me! You're a filthy whore! I hate you! I hate you!" _

_The thorns wrapped around Amaranta's already bleeding body and sunk into her skin. Amaranta let out a cry of pain as her red blood stained the earth. One of the thorns wrapped around Amaranta's wand and snapped it in half. There was a small burst of blue light as the magic was released, and then it fell limp, just a plain stick of wood._

"_I hate you, Amaranta," Dianthe growled. "I'm going to kill you!" _

"_Stop this, Dianthe!" Amaranta pleaded, the thorns slowly turned into lush, green vines, and fell off of Amaranta. "You're not a murderer! This isn't you! Don't do this to yourself!"_

"_I'm not doing anything to myself!" Dianthe cried furiously, and the thorns returned and lodged themselves deep into Amaranta's side. _

_Tears streamed the young Blommarian's face as pain radiated throughout her body. Her mouth was open in a silent scream, and her blood gushed out at an alarming rate. _

"_Jake…confessed to me…" Amaranta did her best to speak, glancing at the immobile boy in the willow tree. "He loves me…and…I love him…I won't back down…because of you…there's no point in lying…to myself…or anyone…" _

_Dianthe grew furious she flung her arm in all directions screaming curses as Amaranta was sliced open in all directions. "Fine! If I can't have him," she turned her blood thirsty eyes on the scared Jake, "then no one will!" She pointed towards Jake, and the willow began to crush him within itself. _

"_No!" Amaranta cried, and fell to the ground. Her hands on the earth, three blades of grass shot like spikes out of the ground and pierced Dianthe, right through her chest. Blood gushed out her open mouth, and then Dianthe fell to the ground._

_Amaranta crawled to the willow, that went still, a trail of blood behind her. She was going to die, she knew it. No amount of magic could save her now. But before she died, she had to save Jake. The willow had nearly crushed him. Not without pain, Amaranta put her hand on the grey, grotesque willow, and it slowly unfurled itself, the boy falling out of it. Amaranta reached towards the boy, he wasn't moving, and his arm was bending in the wring direction. _Please don't be dead, please don't be dead! Please don't be dead!

_Amaranta just about reached Jake's limp form, when something shot right through her leg. She turned around, to find a bloody mass, Dianthe, huffing next to the willow, which had returned to it's twisted form. "I hate you…hate…" Blood trickled down her chin. _

_An eerie green light enveloped Dianthe and the willow tree. The tree grew fists and punched and writhed. The blonde girl fell to the ground dead, yet the willow continued to move. _

How's that…possible?_ Amaranta stared at the thrashing tree. _If she's dead, she shouldn't be able to control it anymore….How?

_Her vision blurred, a fuzzy black enveloping her. She was out of time. With her last breath, Amaranta reached to check if Jake was alive, but her hand fell short of his cold face. _


	22. Discovering With Amaranta

**A/N: **And the plot thickens!

WARNING: Bad language

Disclaimer: Credit for Harry Potter goes to J.K. Rowling.

**Discovering With Amaranta**

The two girls stared at each other; Amaranta gaping like a fish, and Dianthe sneering expectantly. Amaranta had a heart-wrenching look on her face, but when she saw Dianthe's smirk of glee at her inner turmoil, she quickly regained her hard, emotionless face.

"And to think I thought you were a sadistic psycho before," Amaranta stood up, straightening her robes.

A cold look of disappointment shot across Dianthe's face, but only for a second, before it reverted to its disgusted sneering. "And now I've awakened your true, murdering self. You're welcome."

Amaranta took and aggressive step forward. "You killed him, you stupid sod! You killed him! And you blame _me_?!"

"Yes, I blame you!" Dianthe's face contorted in rage. "If you hadn't snuck around my back and seduced him we would all live happily ever after! But no! You had to be a thieving bitch and steal the one man I love!"

"The _one_ man? Look at yourself, you little whore!" Amaranta roared back with equal ferocity. "You got all the men at Hogwarts wrapped around your finger, and you still do now! Why the hell did you have to target the _only_ guy I've ever liked!" Amaranta was so angry tears were forming in her eyes. "You could've had any guy you wanted, but no! you just had to choose the one that liked me! I never knew what love was before Jake, and you just had to kill us all, didn't you?"

"It was punishment! I told you that I liked him, and just as I was about to confess, you go up and snog him!"

"Ok, for your information, _he_ confessed to _me,_ not the other way around! And it's not my fault he kissed me like that!"

"Well, you could've pushed him away!"

"Who the hell would push that sex god away when he's kissing you? You would have done the same thing in my place!"

"I would have not!"

"Would to!"

"Shut up, you slut!"

"Whore!"

"Backstabber!"

"Bubblehead!"

"Bitch!"

"Ok, you know what, you got me!" Amaranta put her hands in mock shame. "I did it! I'm the perpetrator! As soon as I knew you were targeting Jake, I snuck behind your back and wooed him with my sexy body!" The sarcasm was dripping from her voice.

"Argh! Shut up!" Dianthe pounced on top of her sister, clawing at her face. "I hate you! I hate you!"

Amaranta grabbed one of Dianthe's hands long enough to punch her in the face. "You don't have the right to hate me! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have any friends, you ungrateful little urchin!"

"Same to you!" Dianthe shouted, pulling Amaranta's brown locks. "I was the only one who ever talked to you! Everyone else thought you were a heartless ice queen, and I gave up popularity to become friends with you!"

"Popularity my arse!" Amaranta pulled Dianthe's golden hair as well. "Everyone just thought you were a stupid, big-boobed idiot—which you are—and were just going to use you as their personal servant! I was the only one who treated you like a human being!"

"No, you didn't!" The girls were no rolling across the floor, kicking, punching scratching. "You just thought I was your annoying little lackey! You thought I was beneath you, like the rest of the world. Well, get off your high-horse, princess, because there are other people with talent _besides you!_"

"So you think I'm some stuck-up prat?! What would you know?! Acting all cute, you always got what you wanted! Everyone just _loved_ you! Well, I never got loved, okay? My parents hated me! They thought I was a freak!"

"No, they didn't! If you'd end your pity-party for three seconds, you'd know that they loved you enough to fear for your safety, you dunce! My parents were never around to care! They didn't even notice what I truly was!"

"Who's in the pity-party now?!"

"GIRLS!" The two didn't even turn their heads, as Professor McGonagall ran towards them in a state of panic, and quickly flicked her wand to render them immobile. She separated the two frozen girls. "What is the meaning of this?! I will not have such vulgar fighting in the hallways! 50 points from Slytherin! And Miss Amaranta, as the Headmaster's ward, I would've figured you'd have better manners than this! I'm sure he'll find a suitable punishment for you both!"

Professor McGonagall undid the charm on the two girls, only so that she could drag them each by the ear to the Headmaster's office. After they heard the soft "Come in," Amaranta and Dianthe were unceremoniously thrown inside, clutching their earlobes in pain.

"Ouch," Amaranta grimaced and then opened her eyes to find a thoroughly stunned Harry, sitting in a chair, staring at them, as was Dumbledore, though not quite as surprised. The silver basin on the desk caught Amaranta's eye. She recognized that magical item. What was it that Albus called it? A Pensieve? She remembered falling into it once and looking at one of Albus' memories. She had been kindly chastised and informed as to what it could do.

_So this is what they're doing in their late night meetings? _Amaranta mused. _They look at memories? Whose memories? And of what?_

"Sorry to interrupt, Professor," McGonagall suddenly looked regretful at having shoved this matter onto Dumbledore's shoulders. She could have easily handed out a suitable punishment.

"No, no, it's perfectly alright," Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. "Mr. Potter and I had just concluded our meeting. Now, what is it that these two young ladies have done to warrant coming to my office?"

"They were fighting in the hallways," Professor McGonagall said. "Quite viciously, I might add."

Dumbledore nodded, noting the scratches and bruises marking the girls. "Thank your, Professor, you may go now. I'll be sure to give them each suitable punishments."

The Professor nodded curtly, and then walked out of the room. Harry looked at Dumbledore, his trance finally broken, curious if he should leave as well. Since the Headmaster didn't specify otherwise, Harry remained in his seat.

"Please, you two, have a seat," Dumbledore waved his wand, and two elegantly carved wooden chairs appeared, next to Harry's.

They both nodded solemnly, and took their seats.

"Now, what, may I ask, started this quarrel?"

Both girls looked reluctant to open their mouths. Amaranta just looked downright miserable. "I'm sorry, Albus—I…"

"I appreciate the apology, but it is not me you have injured," Dumbledore's eyes were soft towards the ashamed visage of his adopted daughter. "May I please know what caused you two to fight so?"

Amaranta shot Dianthe a glare, who remained cold, nose high in the air. "Dianthe made me remember, sir," Amaranta decided it best to be polite. "She opened the memories of my heart, and I now know everything about what went on between the two of us."

If it was possible, Harry looked even more intent now.

"And this caused you to engage in a battle with young Miss Greene?" Dumbledore didn't raise his voice at all. He remained completely calm, chin on his wizened hand (not the burnt one, mind you).

"Well, no, it's what I remembered," Amaranta shot Dianthe a death glare before proceeding to tell all she had recounted, with the few exceptions of the Jake kissing scene. Harry's mouth grew steadily more open as the story progressed, but Dumbledore remained unmoving. "…and then Dianthe went nuts and killed us all, but not before she did something to the Whomping Willow, to make it as it is now."

"Hey, I didn't kill all of us!" Dianthe shouted in anger! "You killed me _and_ Jake!"

"You killed Jake, you twisted—"

"Sit down," Dumbledore's voice boomed throughout the office. The two girls, who had stood up in their anger, slowly reseated themselves. "Being sisters, it's a wonder you two never fought until now, though I would rather you have not killed each other and an innocent boy." Amaranta flinched at this. "As Blommarians, your emotions greatly effect the plant life around you, especially trees since they harvest a great amount of life force, you, Amaranta, I'm sure, noticed this a long time ago, which is why you always try to remain passive."

Amaranta watched the patterns on the rug intently.

"However, I'm sure bottling up your feelings until now, didn't help," Dumbledore looked between the two girls. "I'm sure there is more than just a spat over a boy going on between you two."

The two glared at each other again.

"Now, let's start with you, Amaranta," Dumbledore turned his twinkling eyes on the shrunken figure of the girl. That must've been a very interesting design on the rug. "Don't be afraid to open your heart out to us. Nothing you say in here shall ever leave this room, should you wish it. Tell us why you dislike Miss Greene, even though you two obviously got along before, if you felt the need to call each other 'sisters.'"

"This girl is no sister of mine!" Dianthe shouted, but Dumbledore glared her back down into her seat.

"Please, no interruptions, Miss Greene."

Amaranta twiddling her thumbs nervously, but spoke with a steady voice nonetheless. Harry noticed that her face looked completely blank.

"I found out that I was adopted when I was ten," Amaranta started. "My adoptive parents were kind and nurturing, they didn't abuse me or anything. But still….there was something lacking. They had never meant for me to find the adoption papers, but when I did…I felt angry…betrayed. Why hadn't they told me? It wasn't that they were unacceptable parents, but I hated lies. I hate artificial things. My adoptive parents didn't truly love me as I thought. They were merely trying to look like perfect parents, so that society would think them 'generous' or 'charitable'. If people didn't praise them on raising a child they found at a battle scene, they probably wouldn't have given me the time of day.

That was also when I found out that I was a Blommarian. My parents told me that they found me in a burnt village, on one of their travels across the Wizarding World. They said that the village was called Rosetta Village."

Dumbledore and Dianthe tensed up at this name, but Harry looked confused. Amarata noticed this so she decided to explain.

"Rosetta village, I soon learned, was one of the few Blommarian villages in the world. About two hundred years ago, a terrible war broke out between wizards and the Blommarians. Their power to control plants had been known for a long time, but when one man, a man named Hubert Grimmwald killed a Blommarian, he soon learned the effects of eating the Heart Fruit. At first, he planned on keeping the secret to his immortality to himself, however, word soon spread of the abilities a Blommarian's Heart Fruit could grant. Soon, a total war broke out among the Wizarding World. No, it was more like a slaughter. Blommarians everywhere were hunted down for their hearts." Amaranta snorted bitterly. "Little did they know that they weren't granted _invincibility_, their bodies just stopped growing. They could still be killed by a knife wound or illness, and so each died, and with them the legend of the Blommarians. Everyone thought all the Blommarians had been completely killed off.

"One of the villages attacked was Rosetta village, and apparently, my old home town where my parents once lived. But just this wasn't enough proof for me to be a Blommarian, and so I decided to try and test my powers, should I have them. And, as we all know, I learned of my ability and how to control it. My parents, although they never told me, had secretly hoped I was just a normal witch. When I told them what I was, they soon became disgusted with me, and told me to never use my ability ever again. They said, 'If anyone should find out what you are, you'll be hunted and killed.' But that was just an excuse. They were afraid of me. I had this strangely ability to control the environment around me without the use of a wand. I was powerful. And sending me to Hogwarts would only make me more powerful, they knew it. But not sending me to Hogwarts would raise suspicion, and they couldn't very well tell everyone I was a Squib.

"And there, is where I met Dianthe. I was planning on going through my school years peacefully alone, gaining power, but no! Dianthe wouldn't have that! She followed me around for half the first year before I finally gave in and decided to befriend her." Amaranta's face grew soft. "That was the first time I had ever thought of using my power to help someone instead of frighten them. Dianthe was stupid, pretty, but bubbleheaded, so it made people want to bully her, as most of the girls decided to do. I planned to ignore it at first, hoping that maybe this would help keep Dianthe away from me, but it only made her all the more clingy. And when I finally decided to stand up against those snobby upperclassmen and turn that one girl into a pig," even Dianthe couldn't keep from letting a little smirk cross her lips, "I learned that…it felt good to help people. I felt distinctly proud of myself for making someone's day. That's what changed my mind. I started to think that maybe it wasn't so bad to have someone get close to me, after all.

"I slowly grew to like Dianthe. She was like a little sister, albeit taller than me, but the way she devotedly followed me around like a lost puppy, how could anyone not find that loveable? But…well, it seemed like the rest of the world noticed her cuteness in our third year. She got asked out at least twice a month! It didn't annoy me at first. I merely thought of them as outsiders trying to take away my cute little sister, but when they only grew in quantity as the years progressed, it started to annoy me. I mean, it began to feel like I was living in her shadow. No one noticed me compared to her radiant beauty! I never got asked out once! There were never any rumors about any guy liking me! I even heard the guys use it as a joke, 'If you don't do what we say, you'll have to kiss Amaranta!' Anyone would be ticked like that! I mean, I know I'm not a living Aphrodite, but did my looks really pale in comparison to Dianthe?

"So, when Jake, the most handsome guy in school, and also, as Dianthe told me the night before, the guy that she had a crush on, I will admit, I felt like I had gained a small victory over her. Just knowing the fact that I got a guy that she couldn't get…well, it did sort of go to my head. But, even so, I wasn't going to back down just because Dianthe liked him too! It would've come down to his choice even if she hadn't told me, right? I did nothing wrong by accepting is proposal!"

Amaranta flushed, and sank back into her chair, signaling that she was finished.

"So, you were jealous of Miss Greene's beauty," Dumbledore said frankly, "and so you felt superior, knowing that you 'hooked' the one guy that she liked?"

"No!" Amaranta cried out indignantly, but under Dumbledore's steady gaze, murmured a soft, "Yes."

"And would you say, even now, that you loved Mr. Pele?"

Amaranta opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. She closed her mouth, thinking, and then finally said, "I guess I didn't really love him in that way. I mean, we were great friends, the three of us, but I guess I just got a little crazy with my superiority-complex that I said 'yes.'"

"You little—!" Dianthe stood up, the blood rushing to her head.

"Please, Miss Greene, sit down," Dumbledore, ordered and then turned back to Amaranta. "Now, is there something you would like to say to Miss Greene, now that she knows your true feelings?"

"Yes," Amaranta turned to look at her friend. "Dianthe…I'm sorry for stealing your guy and killing you, but that was only to protect Jake."

"Now, Miss Greene," Dumbledore turned to Dianthe. "Is there anything you'd like to enlighten us with?"

Dianthe sat down her chair, steaming still. "I was jealous of you too," she finally said stubbornly. "You were smart and always good at everything you do, not to mention you didn't go with the flow. You were independent and strong. I always thought it was a wonder that no one asked you out until Jake." Then more softly, "Though I guess that's kind of my fault." Then more loudly, "I guess I craved the attention. My whole life, I had been ignored. My parents work at Gringott's so they were always away on business trips and such. They rarely ever came home, and when they did, they were too tired to care about me. Thy believed in smarts over looks, so since beauty was the only thing I had going for me, my parents thought I was a failure. Being from a pureblood family, they used to always say, 'Well, at least we can marry her off to some rich bachelor.' I never even knew that I was adopted until Amaranta showed me what I truly was.

"But when I met Amaranta, I knew that she was the kind of daughter my parents wanted. Someone intelligent, powerful, with this commanding aura about them, who didn't get caught up in silly schoolgirl gossip like I did. So, I tried to hang around her more. To try my best to be just like her, that way, my parents would love me. But, once I began to get a lot of confessions from boys, I realized that, aside form my parents and the girls in school, everyone else loved me for my looks. So, maybe I was a bit desperate for attention, and I did tend to flaunt the fact of beauty a bit in front of Amaranta, but that was because I could only see her as the daughter my parents always wanted, and defeating her…was like defeating my parents! I felt like I could finally prove that I was good just the way I was.

"And I do think I really did like Jake. I've liked him ever since first year, but back then, I was too shy to ever confess to him, and when we became friends, I didn't want things to become awkward. Jake was a year older than us, so he was going to leave soon, and well, I just wanted to relieve myself of these feelings either way."

"And so, you felt your inferiority towards Amaranta come back when you found out she was dating Mr. Pele, correct?" Dumbledore interceded.

Dianthe looked away. "Maybe just a little. And it all began to eat me up inside until finally, I just snapped. I couldn't look at either of them with the same fondness as I had years ago. I hated them both so much!"

"And you let your emotions get the better of yourself, until you killed your friends," Dumbledore concluded solemnly. "Do you want to add anything?"

"…I'm sorry for killing Amaranta and Jake," Dianthe rolled her eyes.

"Good," Dumbledore grinned broadly. "Even though you two have made up, I'm afraid that you still broke a school rule, and therefore must be punished. You will serve detention with Professor Snape, every other night, for one week. I'll inform him, and he'll inform you of the specifics. You three may go now."

Harry remained seated, until his mind finally processed the "three" and then he quickly followed the girls out of Dumbledore's office. As soon as the stone gargoyle had hoped back into it sentinel position, Dianthe flung around, and grabbed Amaranta by the collar, shoving her up against the wall. Harry didn't have enough time to react and pull out his wand.

"I hate you, Amaranta!" she growled. "And when the time is right, I'm going to kill you and bring back Jake!" She eyed the tip of Harry's wand and then shoved Amaranta away, stalking off.

Harry put his wand away. What was that all about?

* * *

Malfoy was up to no good. Well, duh, he was always up to no good. _Thank you Captain Obvious! _Harry shouted at himself. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately, but never mind that!

Malfoy had been disappearing along the seventh floor quite a lot recently. He had Dobby and Kreacher tail him for four nights. Thanks to Hermoine's speculation, he had gathered that he was using the Room of Requirement (and Crabbe and Goyle transformed into girls, thanks to the Polyjuice Potion). Ron had a right laugh at that one.

"Didn't Dumbledore ask you to ask Slughorn about that memory?" Hermoine lectured him for the billionth time that month. "If Dumbledore wants you to do it, then it must be important!"

"I know that, but I just don't see how!" Harry argued in his defense. "I can't think of a way to make him talk."

"Harry, if it was a matter of slipping him a potion, Dumbledore could have easily done that!" Hermoine argued, looking through the Daily Prophet. Now with Lord Voldermort realized by the Ministry, all that was ever in the papers were the obituaries.

"Anyone we know?" Ron asked.

"No, thank goodness," Hermoine sighed. "Oh this is horrible! A nine-year-old boy was arrested for attempting to murder his grandparents. The Ministry suspects he was under the Imperius Curse."

"Anywho, I just have a bad feeling about Malfoy," Harry reverted back to the prior subject.

"When have you ever _not _had bad feelings about Malfoy?" Ron snorted, although he agreed with Harry, despite his obvious paranoia.

"Are you sure you're not letting your…well…_jealousy_," Hermoine said that word carefully, "lead you on a bit? I mean, Amaranta doesn't suspect him of doing anything foul, but—"

"One: I am _not_ jealous of Malfoy," Harry growled. "I just hate how he treats Amaranta. Two: It's not that Amaranta _doesn't_ suspect him, it's that he won't tell her anything. And three: it's _because_ he won't tell her anything that makes it all the more suspicious! He trusts Amaranta with everything else—I admit, she said she wouldn't tell me some of his secrets—but if this is something he can't tell even her, then it must be bad, or something she wouldn't like, which is worse."

"But you still need to persuade Professor Slughorn to tell you the true contents of that memory," Hermoine said finally.

Harry grumbled inaudibly, and finished taking notes in Charms class.

* * *

Harry stood outside Dumbledore's office. He had succeeded in getting the necessary memory from Professor Slughorn and had just watched it with Dumbledore in his office. He learned more than just about Lord Voldermort. He had learned about Dianthe as well. There was no way, there was no f'ing way.

Horcruxes, as he had found out, were objects that contained a part of a person's _soul._ The act was commited by an incantation and murder. Voldermort had split his soul seven times, but that wasn't so shocking (after all, he had killed millions), what shocked him most was that _Dianthe_, as evil as she may try to be, had created a Horcrux, and not only that but the Horcrux was none other than the Whomping Willow. By killing Amaranta and Jake, Dianthe had split her soul, so that part of it was inside the once normal willow tree.

His blood rushed through his veins. He needed to keep Amaranta away form her, no matter what their past was together. Dianthe was just as good as a Dark Lord. In fact, she could be the next one! She was certainly powerful with all her hundreds of years of knowledge. Dianthe really wanted to kill her. She really was evil.

Yet, why hadn't she? Even if she wanted to torture Amaranta slowly, letting her live her happy school days with him wasn't a very evil way of torture. No, something was up. She was planning something. Something devious. Something tugged at him from the subconscious. What was it Dianthe had said to them that one night? The usual threat of killing Amaranta and what else?

"_And when the time is right, I'm going to kill you and bring back Jake!"_

Harry didn't know how, even in the Wizarding World rebirth was impossible for all except Blommarians, but he knew that whenever Dianthe brought Jake back, Amaranta would die. He bolted down the hallways, not knowing what he was doing, just knowing that someone very powerful and very evil was after his Amaranta.


	23. Broken With Amaranta

**A/N: **Ok, so this is my first time adding lyrics to a story (I never realy liked using copyrighted material, but this is a fanfic, so, hey! Nothing is safe anymore!), but this song just fit Draco so well. I call it the Stalker Song. (It was a song showed to be by my own personal stalker.) You'll see what I mean when you read the lyrics.

Warnings: a little cussing.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter goes to J.K. Rowling. Lyrics are _Out Of My Head_ by Mobile.

_lyrics- italicised and centered_

_

* * *

_

**Broken With Amaranta**

_Come on over  
Let me watch you  
Let me hold you  
Let me touch you_

Draco sighed as he watched Amaranta eat with Harry and his friends again. It seemed like so long ago when she had been his friend. Just the other day when she used to latch onto his arm tightly, afriad that he would drift away…

Suddenly, his split pea soup didn't look so appetizing. Blaise had noticed his thin form lately and glared at him as he ignored his food. "If you don't eat something now, man, I swear I'll hex you into the next year, even if you are my best mate," Zabini growled. "I won't allow you to destroy yourself over some stupid depression! If that stupid girl is—"

Draco held his hand up. Even with their relationship hanging by a breaking thread, he wouldn't let Zabini insult the girl he loved. "It's not her fault. If anything, it's mine. I can't tell her what I'm doing, hell, I can't tell anyone. If she found out she'd hate me, but its for her own good."

"That's very _un_-Malfoy of you to sacrifice everything for a girl, let alone someone as lowly as her," Blaise cocked an eyebrow. He had watched his friend go through his new metamorphisis. At first, he thought it'd be good for him, but if he was going to act like this…

Draco let his head sink into his hands. "Right now, I'd give anything to not be a Malfoy."

The bell signaled the end of the lunch period, and Draco lazily let Blaise lead him to his next class. Oh dear Merlin, why did it have to be a "Draco" day?

_Right or wrong  
I should have stayed up 'till the break of dawn  
Ever since our eyes did meet  
I long to see  
Your eyes  
Surprised me like a moon on a cowboy movie screen  
I never found out what it means!_

Everything was so awkward. Amaranta's bamboo plant sagged under the weight of her emotions. Even if she kept a stoic face, Draco knew she was far from emotionless. He hated how tense she was whenever they were together. And every time, which was all the time, she caught him looking at her, he saw something of a glint of hope in her eyes, but then he'd always do something retarded and mess it up.

Gracious Merlin, she was so damn cute when she looked up at him hopefully. Oh, how he wanted to make up with her! He wanted to go back to hugging her tightly and watch her virgin blush crawl slowly across her face. How he wanted to make oh-so-subtle passes at her. How he wanted to wrap his hands around her slim waist and pull her closer! If he wanted it all so badly, why couldn't he just humble himself and apologize?

"I see you've been watering the plant I bought you," Draco snorted. Curse you, Malfoy pride!

"You know damn well why it's like this!" Amaranta shrieked furiously, tears glistening her eyes. The bamboo plant clawed at him viciously.

Dammit! Why did he always screw up like this? "Sorry if your emotions are so heavy." He didn't mean to make that as jeering as it was.

"Why are you being such an arse lately?" Amaranta cried before taking Mr. Bamboo with her up into her room. Wouldn't he like to know the answer to that question.

_I must be out of my head  
It must be something I said  
So come on  
I'll waste my life [on you  
You think I'm out of my head  
But I'm romantically dead  
So come on  
I'll waste my life on you!!!_

Sometimes he couldn't take it anymore. Draco would seek refuge in the boys' bathroom on the sixth floor. He was a bit embarassed when Moaning Myrtle found him during one of his pity sessions. He never took to the girly ghost. She was just so…weird. But, she didn't laugh at him, as he thought anyone would, should they see him. In fact, she listened to his complaints and sympathized with him.

When he burst in there that particular day, it seemed as if she was already waiting for him.

"Don't," she crooned, noticing the tears streaming down his face. "Oh, don't…Tell me what's wrong…I can help you…"

"No one can help me," Draco shivered. "All I ever do is…hurt her…Why can't I…ever say…what I truly feel? …I don't want to do this…but I have to…for her sake…and mine…they'll kill me…and her…"

He gave a sobbing shudder, and then looked up into the cracked mirror. His heart nearly stopped when he saw Potter gaping back at him. Fear and rage welled up in him within seconds, and he flicked around wand in hand. His hex had missed Potter merely by inches, shattering a nearby lamp. Harry flicked his wand, thinking the spell in his thoughts, but he blocked the jinx.

"No! No! Stop it!" shireked Moaning Myrtle, floating around them anxiously. "Stop! STOP!"

The blood pumped through his brain, but Draco wasn't thinking. His body moved on its own, throwing all manner of curses at Potter, who dodged, blocked, and parried with equally strong hexes and jinxes. All he knew is that he wanted this boy dead, now. He raised his wand, "_Cruci—"_

"_SECTUMSEMPURA!"_ shouted Potter from the floor, after slipping on some water.

It felt as if about twenty or so swords had sliced him open. His blood splattered along the bathroom floor, and his body cried out to him in pain, but he made no sound, only fell to the floor, shaking, clutching his gaping chest. His chalk-white hands shook uncontrollably.

"No—" he could hear Potter gasp in fear. "No— I didn't—"

Moaning Myrtle let out a deafening scream: "MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!"

Draco didn't even hear the door bang open through Myrtle's squeals. He saw Snape over him, and saw his lips mutter something quietly, moving his wand graciously across Draco's body. Slowly, the pain dulled a bit, but didn't disappear. His godfather wiped the muck from his face, and continued the spell. Some of his wounds seemed to be repairing themselves.

"Come, you need the hospitle wing," even Snape's drawling voice felt like an angel's then. "There may be a certain amount of scarring, but if you take a dittany immediately we might avoid even that." He hoisted Draco up so that he was standing and supported his weight with his arm. He turned to Harry in cold fury. "And you, Potter…You wait here for me."

_Come on over  
Let me watch you  
Let me hold you  
Let me touch you_

Harry was on his last nerve right now. He felt so…_filthy_ when he had tried to lie his way out of detention; it didn't work of course, (he still got the whole end of terms worth of detention) but he wasn't proud to try and cover up what he had done like some little sneak. It didn't help when Amaranta found out. She hadn't looked at him with hate or disgust as he had feared. It was worse: disappointment and hurt.

"Amaranta, I didn't mean to!" Harry sweared.

"Please, Harry, I'm sorry, but," she didn't look him in the eyes, tears already streaming her face. "I realy can't look at you right now. Maybe I'll see you later." And she dashed into the infirmary.

Dianthe appeared around the corner, morphing in out of the shadows. She had a triumphant smirk on her face that made Harry sick. She applauded him mockingly. "Good job! You successfully made her suffer, and I didn't even have to lift a finger! If it's going to be like this, I think I'll keep you around."

"Shut up, wench!" Harry howled.

Dianthe only laughed. "To think, the stoic, cold-hearted Amaranta that I knew could actually shed tears. It's much more satisfying than I thought it'd be, although I'd much rather be the cause of those tears, but no, Harry Potter, that award goes to you. Congratulations."

"Just shut up!" Harry yelled, then turned away, he was going to be late for detention.

_I'm right, you're wrong  
You should have come to me before too long  
You'll never leave my sight again  
To keep you then  
Your eyes  
Deny me like the sun on a night sky movie scene  
And I just don't care what it means!_

Draco woke to find a tears-stained face sleeping solemnly next to his. He nearly fell out of his bed, when he realized it was Amaranta's face. He sat up, and finally took in the situation. He was in the hospital wing after taking many potions from Madame Pomfrey that made him really drowsy. Amaranta must have been crying over him and fallen asleep. She was sitting on the edge of her chair, head rested on her arms, which were resting on the side of his bed.

He smiled as his racing heart calmed down. He smoothed her hair fondly, relieved to be in her presence without her screaming at him in righteous fury.

_I always manage to make her cry,_ Draco thought glumly, finding himself unable to stop petting her. A new surge of love coursed through him. He _would_ protect her. There shouldn't be any reason for her to have to worry her pretty little head over such trifling matters as Lord Voldermort —he still couldn't help, but shudder at the name— or the war that was unfolding before them.

While he was sitting there, wallowing in self-pity in the bathroom (Draco felt particularily disgusted with himself for this), he was running out of time. He needed to finish his scheme quickly, or both he and Amaranta would get hurt.

With a new surge of determination, Draco got off of the crisp, white sheets and walked around to where Amaranta lay sleeping peacefully. He knelt down and chastely kissed her lips before shrugging on his robes. He would do it. He would bring down Dumbledore and save Amaranta!

_And I hate to be the one  
The one to drop you the bomb  
You wouldn't wait around  
But I'll be watchin' you_

_I'll watch your every move  
You can't know we can't hurt  
You got no choice I got you!!!_

Amaranta awoke with a loud _bang!_ She nearly jumped three feet in the air, shouting wordless nonsense, before she finally calmed down. She looked around, the infirmary was dark and empty. It was late in the evening, so Madame Pomfrey probably was in her office. Why hadn't the old nurse woken her? What if Draco had woken up? Draco? She looked at the empty, ruffled hospital bed. Where was Draco?!

Amaranta about bolted out the door when an eerie green light from the window caught her eye. Cautiously, Amaranta stalked towards the open window and gasped in horror: The Mark was hovering above the Astronomy Tower.

Immediately, her brain kicked into combat mode. Whipping out her wand, she burst out of the infirmary, glancing every direction before moving towards the stares. She could hear the sound of distant battles, and decided it best to avoid those spots. She didn't want to waste her time on any of the Death Eaters, no, she wanted to kill the source. That always solved the problem. And besides, her instinct was telling her to go up.

ON the way, however, she bumped into a very healthy looking Draco Malfoy, who stared at her in mild surprise. "D-Draco! You're okay!" Amaranta shuddered between breaths. "What's going on? The Mark—"

"Hurry, Amaranta, come with me," he said forcibly and grabbed her by the arm. Even if Amaranta had wanted to, she couldn't break fom his steel grip. She was so utterly confused.

"Draco, what's going on…?" she asked, letting herself be dragged along. "Is…Is Voldermort here?"

"No, it's alright," he said, suddenly stopping and gripping both her shoulders, forcing her to face him. His face looked strangely calm and dark, despite his smile. "Just be safe, Amaranta. I'll take care of the rest. I'll come back for you later." And with that note, he shoved Amaranta into an empty classroom, and locked the door with a strong spell, as well as many Protection spells. All of the Death Eaters had been ordered not to harm her, but just to be safe.

Draco quickly turned away, ignoring Amaranta's muffled cries of protest, quickly casting the _Muffliato_ spell just before leaving. He had seen something fly into the Astronomy tower, and he needed to get there quickly.

When he arrived he cast the _Expelliarmus_ Charm, but was disappointed and glad to find only the old fool's wand fly across the floor. And it irked him that Dumbledore didn't look the slightest bit distressed. "Good evening, Draco."

He glanced over at the second broom. "Who else is here?"

"A question I could ask you. Or are you acting alone?"

"No, I've got back up. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight." He had meant this as more of a threat than an answer.

"Well, well," Dumbledore said kindly as if Draco were showing him his Potions project. "Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?"

"Yeah, right under your nose and you never realized!" Draco felt disturbed that he had this sickening feeling of fear in him.

"Ingenious," Dumbledore said. "And yet…forgive me…where are they now? You don't seem to be supported."

"They met up with some of your guards." Dammit! Why the hell was he shaking?! This senile, old fool was unarmed, and showed not the slightest bit of hostility towards him! "They're fighting down below. They won't be long….I came on ahead. I've got a job to do."

"Well, then, you must go on and do it, my dear boy," Dumbledore smiled.

Draco merely stared at him.

"Draco,Draco, you are not a killer."

"How do you know?" Malfoy snapped at once. He soon realized how childish this sounded and blushed. Why, in the most important moment, was he acting like a fool? "You don't know what I'm capable of! You don't know what I've done!"

"Oh, yes I do, You nearly killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley, and even tried to kill me, which were very feeble attempts, I'm afraid. So feeble that I wonder if your heart was truly in it. I don't think you'll kill me, Draco. Killing isn't as easy as the innocent believe. So, while we wait here for your friends, why don't you tell me how you smuggled them in here? It seems to have taken you a long time to have worked out how to do it."

Draco just stared again, his shaky hand point directly at Dumbledore's heart. "I had to mend the broken Vanishing Cabinet that no one's used for years. The one Montague got lost in last year." Why the hell was he telling Dumbledore like this? He wasn't nearly as classic as to monologue before killing his enemy.

There was a loud bang from downstairs, the fight was getting closer. A shout, and another bang caroused up the spiral staircase.

"There is little time one way or another," Dumbledore said. "So let us discuss your options, Draco."

"_My_ options!" Draco shouted. "I'm standing here with a wand, about to kill you!"

"My dear boy, if you were going to kill me, you would have already done so."

"I haven't got any options!" Draco's fear rushed up form the pit of his stomach. He grew even paler. "He'll kill her! If I don't kill you, he said he'd kill her and then me!"

"I appreciate the difficulty of your situation," Dumbledore said truthfully. "Why else do you think I have not confronted you before now? Because I know that you and my adopted daughter would have been murdered if Lord Voldermort realized that I suspected you. But now, at last, we can speak plainfully to each other. No harm has been done, you have hurt nobody, though you are very lucky that your unintentional victims survived…Amaranta would be very angry to find that you have let Death Eaters into her only home now…I can help you, Draco."

Suddenly, footsteops were thundering up the stairs, and a second later four people in black robes buffeted Draco out of the way. One of the Death Eaters, a lumpy-looking man with a lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle. "Dumbledore cornered!" he turned to a lanky woman beside her. "Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!

"Good evening, Amycus," Dumbledore nodded calmly towards the Death Eater, as if this were all a house-warming party. "And you've brought Alecto, too….Charming…"

The woman growled angrily. "Think your little jokes'll help you on your deathbed?"

"Jokes? No, no, these are manners," Dumbledore shook hi head, smiling.

"Do it," said a filthy, grey-haired man. He had a raspy bark of a voice, long fingernails, and smelled undeniably of dirt, sweat, and blood.

"Is that you, Fenrir?" Dumbledore asked.

"That's right," even his teerth were yellow, although red-stained now. "Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?"

"No, I cannot say that I am. I must say, I'm a little shocked that Draco would bring you here, where his friends live…"

"I didn't," Draco refused to look at Fenrir. "I didn't know he was going to come."

"But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore. Especially the little plant girl. I'm not a vegetarian, but I bet her squeals are just—"

"_REDUCTO!" _

A jet of red light illuminated Fenrir's back and he fell to the floor, unconcious. Everyone whipped around to see Amaranta stepping victoriously on the werewolf's unconscious back. "Who's going to eat me?" Amaranta smirked, looking down at the werewolf.

A sense of pride rushed through Draco. That's his girl! That was the girl he fell in love with. Tough as nails. But fear was soon replaced as she finally looked up.

"Draco, did you really think you could…keep me…" Her sentence slowed to a halt as she took in the scene. He adoptive father, Dumbledore, standing cornered and alone, surrounded by four Death Eaters, one now unconscious, Draco's wand pointed directly at his heart.

"Get her," one of the Death Eater's snapped out of his trance, and Amaranta was immediately, being held so that her arms were above her hand, and her wand in Amycus' grubby fingers.

"Hey, let me go! What the bloody hell—?" She stopped her words as Professor Snape burst through the ramparts. Her eyes glistened with hope. The Astronomy tower was suddenly silent, all eyes on Snape.

"Snape, the boy doesn't seem to be able to—" Amycus was cut off as Snape pushed past them, and shoved Draco out of the way.

"Severus…" Dumbledore spoke—no, begged softly. "Please…"

Amaranta's mind was in a flurry. There was only one thought she could make out: Her whole life's meaning rested on Snape's thin shoulders. His decision would affect the rest of her life. Of course, she trusted the Potions Master to save them all. She had a feeling about him, like some brotherly connection.

Dumbledore turned his sad, twinkling eyes on Amaranta. "I'm sorry you have to see this…"

Snape raised his wand and pointed it straight at Dumbledore. Amaranta's breath hitched in her throat. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

"NO!" Although she could feel the breath come out of her lungs, she couldn't hear her strangled cry. She could only watch helplessly as the lethal green light struck the old wizard squarely in the chest. For a moment, it seemed as if he was suspended in the air, then he flew over the battlements and down, towards the ground. Although none could see it, although Amaranta could feel it, one of the trees in the nearby courtyard suddenly grew at an alarming rate, it's branches spreading out in a canopy, and caught the old man's dead body.

Tears were readily streaming down Amaranta's pale, wide-eyed face. "NO! DAD!" She turned to Snape and Draco, pure fury in her eyes. "WHY?! WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?! I TRUSTED YOU! I TRUSTED YOU!" The young Blommarian struggled against the grasp of her tall captor; she wanted to hurt them. She wanted revenge. "WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?! ANSWER ME, DAMMIT! WHY THE FUCK DID YOU KILL THE ONE MAN WHOEVER LOVED ME COMPLETELY?! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

Draco cowered behind Snape's steadfast form. What had he done? No, he couldn't lose his resolve now. He always knew that she'd be hurt when she found out. She'd get over it. After he explained to her, she would realize that it was all for her sake, and then she'd love him again. But he couldn't rid himself of those dreaded words. "_I hate you!"_

They all jumped when they heard the sound of lacksydaisical clapping. They turned back to the entrance where a very smug Dianthe leaned against the stone wall. "Good job, Draco," it was obvious how much it took for her to contain her mirth. She was positively beaming. "I must admit you're quite clever. Even I wouldn't have thought of such a plan to break Amaranta—oh, yes, you did, boy. She's broken. You and Professor Snape were the only people she ever trusted. Now she can never trust again." She glided mystically towards where Amaranta cried pathetically. "_Trust no one! Everyone is an enemy. They only want to hurt you!"_

"No!" Draco shouted before he realized.

Amaranta raised her head slowly to reveal glazed over eyes, puffy and red. "_Trust no one. Everyone is an enemy." _Her voice was cold and dead.

Snape pointed his wand at Dianthe but she only laughed, and disappeared down the spiral staricase. "Have fun with your broken toy!" Her angelic voice echoed ghostily up over the ramparts.

Amaranta's body went limp as she collapsed into choked sobs. Since she couldn't move her arms to wipe away the tears, they just plopped on the floor. That was the only sounds until Snape bellowed, "Out of here, quickly! And take the girl!"

_I must be out of my head  
It must be something I said  
So come on  
I'll waste my life on you!  
You think I'm out of my head  
But I'm romantically dead  
So come on!  
_

_I'll waste my life  
I'll waste my life  
My life on you!!!_


	24. Plotting With Amaranta

**A/N: **Ok, I'm trying to go along with the storyline of Book 7, but I find it so utterly boring to write a fanfic about. Especially since I don't feel like going in too deeply about the Hallows. Well, I'll just tell you that you're going to be seeing a lot more of Draco from now on.

**Plotting With Amaranta**

The Death Eaters in Malfoy Manor eyed Nagini, Voldermort's pet snake, warily. Lord Voldermort had often used her to contact his loyal servants without actually having to leave his hiding place. The Death Eaters always found it a bit creepy how they could hear their master's raspy voice form the head of the snake, even if her mouth didn't open. She merely looked at them through slitted eyes.

"_Everything went successfully?" _Nagini's golden eyes flashed.

"Yes, m'lord," Bellatrix Lestrange breathed. His voice always sent shivers down her spine. "Dumbledore is dead and we have the Blommarian with us."

An evil cackle resounded throughout the room. Yes! His worst enemy was finally dead. Did love save you now, Dumbledore? _"I'm quite surprised everything went so well, considering you fools' long list of failures."_

Everyone, except for Snape, shrunk in fear, but no retribution came. Their lord was in a good mood. If only they had managed to kill Harry Potter as well, then their lives would be complete! And Master would love me, thought Bellatrix.

"_You have all done a good job. Now, if you idiots can handle it, kill the Blommarian, but leave me the Heart Fruit." _

"M'lord," Snape stepped in, whom until now, had remained stoic and silent. "Before you make a decision concerning the Blommarian, I have learned that another, and certainly far more powerful, Blommarian has appeared."

"_And tell me why this should matter, Snape, after I have devoured the Heart Fruit of the girl already in my possession!" _

Snape bowed apologetically, but continued. "Because, not only can use this girl to kill Harry Potter, but you will also have two Heart Fruits in your hands. She has been twisted with hatred and jealousy towards the weaker Blommarian girl, and as long as we have her, she will come. Excuse my forwardness, master, but no one has eaten a Heart Fruit and lived, let alone have eaten _two_ Heart Fruits. The power of this individual would be astounding."

He waited, and when no answer he came, he assumed Voldermort was considering his idea. "As I stated before, we could use their strange powers to kill Harry Potter. I hold in my possession the Mannequin Potion.," he pulled out a round bottle filled with clear liquid. "This, as I am sure you know, will render its victim utterly emotionless and at a loss of freewill. They must obey the specific person or persons specified. With this, m'lord, you could control Amaranta as your own little puppet."

"_And tell me, Snape, why would I want to do that?"_

"Harry Potter as I have learned at my stay in Hogwarts," he glanced over at the other Death Eaters, "values Amaranta's friendship. I'd even go so far as to say that he _loves_ her. We can use her to lure him out, and even have the girl kill him. It would be an ironic death to die at the hands of the girl he adores."

The Death Eaters gaped at him. And then at Nagini in wait.

"_You will need a personal artifact of the master of the victim."_

Hook, line, and sinker!

"_One of Nagini's scales should suffice for me. Bring her here once the potion has taken effect." _

"Yes, m'lord," Snape bowed deeply and walked towards Nagini, who didn't flinch as he extracted one of her smooth green scales. He popped the cork on the bottle and dropped the scale in there, which dissolved on contact. The potion turned into a thick green liquid.

Nagini turned her head to Narcissa Malfoy. _"Narcissa, I will not stand another failure from your son. He failed to kill Dumbledore and thus Severus had to perform the deed in his stead. If he can't even kill a wandless, old man, then your son is not ready to be a Death Eater just yet, but that does not mean he is safe from punishment. Though, I'm sure the effects of this potion will be punishment enough for him."_

Narcissa bowed her head humbly. "I apologize, m'lord. I will see to it that he does not fail again." She hoped that the relief was not too evident in her voice. She had never wanted her son to be a Death Eater. He was far too young.

"_Now, is there anymore information you'd like to tell me?" _

"The Order plans to move Potter from his uncle's home," Snape said again, "to their headquarters. They no longer deem the Muggle house safe."

"As they shouldn't!" Bellatrix laughed. "What made them think a mere _Muggle_ could protect him?"

"_The Potter boy's house is protected by a spell, that so long should his relatives take care of him, that anyone who wishes him harm is unable to enter the building. Now, Snape, unless you have anymore information, please administer the potion to the girl."_

"As you command," Snape bowed, and then exited the room.

He did not know what else they talked about, and he didn't care. His job was done. It'd take a lot of time to explain to Draco, but he was sure that the lovestruck Bellatrix would do anything to keep her idol talking to her as long as possible, especially being shown how useless she was compared to his resourcefulness.

He found Draco sitting outside a door, looking as if his parents had just died.

"Has she calmed down?" Snape asked calmly, but not coldly.

"A bit," Draco sounded lifeless. "She'll dehydrate herself if she cries anymore."

"Here, make her drink this," he handed Draco the bottle of the green potion. "It's like an intense Calming Draught. It'll help relieve the pain."

Draco took the bottle and eyed it curiously. "I'd love to, but I don't think she'll listen to me. She won't even let me in the room."

"I was aware that you knew how to perform the Illusionment Charm."

Draco only frowned deeper at this, and stood up. He waved his wand lazily, and walked into the room, holding the bottle in his other hand. Inside, Amaranta hugged her legs and rocked back and forth on the opulent four poster bed.

"It hurts," she repeatedly murmured, looking nowhere in particular. "It hurts."

Draco hated himself for doing this. He had created an illusion of a memory from their childhood. In Amaranta's mind, she saw a seven-year-old Draco hugging her shoulders. They were playing in the gardens when she had tripped and scrapped her knee. The flesh was exposed and bleeding.

"Here, take this," both real and illusion Draco said, handing her a bottle of potion. "It'll make the pain go away, I promise."

"It hurts…" Amaranta was like a broken record. She grabbed the bottle, sniffing. "My chest hurts…"

Malfoy stiffened. She was supposed to be seeing an illusion of a scrapped knee. Had she broken through his spell? No, Amaranta obediently drank the entire bottle of the sickening green potion, her face scrunched up in distaste. As soon as she had finished the last drop, she dropped the bottle, which landed with a _crash!_ onto the floor. She hugged her head and curled up into a defensive ball on the silk comforters.

"It hurts," she said more loudly. "It hurts! It feels like my blood is on fire! Draco, the pain isn't going away! Oh, it hurts!"

"It'll go away in a minute," Draco hoped. "It's just a slight side-effect. The pain will be gone soon, I promise." He hugged her head to his chest.

Slowly, but surely, Amaranta relaxed until she remained perfectly still. Draco looked at her, glad he no longer heard hiccupped sobs. However, he didn't like what he saw. Amaranta righted herself and stood up, her back perfectly straight. Her face was completely devoid of emotion, uncaring.

"Amaranta, what's wrong?" Draco asked, but he received no answer. Amaranta remained completely motionless.

"Come with me," Snape's voice sounded from the doorway. "I'll take you to your Master."

Instantly, Amaranta walked towards Snape, waiting by his side. Draco looked at his godfather in confusion. "Snape, what's—"

"Listen, Draco, and listen well, for I will only tell you this once: Amaranta is under the effects of the Mannequin Potion. From here on out, she will be complete devoid of emotion and independent thought. She will be the Dark Lord's puppet from now on. Hold on, don't interrupt me just yet. This is all part of my plan to save her. The Dark Lord was going to kill her; this was the only way she could have remained alive. The Dark Lord plans to use her as bait to lure Potter out, and then command her to kill him. I will not allow her to do that. When that time comes, I want you to order her to drink this." He handed the stunned Draco a small vial of rosy pink liquid. "It's the antidote. She will remember everything, I'm afraid, but she will have her own free will. And then she can escape the Dark Lord's wrath. Now this is very crucial, Draco. You mustn't give her the antidote _before_ Harry Potter arrives. If you do, one of the Death Eaters will notice and notify their master, and then she will be dead. Once Harry is here, he will create a big enough distraction, and then she can escape with him. Answer me, do you understand?"

"Y-yessir," Draco muttered, holding the crystal vial in his hands.

"Now, be sure to hide that in the most secure place, possible! If anyone else should find it, we're all dead, not just her. Do it, now! I'll take Amaranta to the Dark Lord. I'm sure he is waiting for me."

Without another word, Snape strode out of the room, and Amaranta followed him. Draco watched them, calculating what this new information. Amaranta was going to be emotionless… The thought made him feel clammy. Wait a second! Amaranta controlled her powers through her emotions! If she was going to be an emotionless puppet, that would mean she wouldn't be able to use her Blommarian powers anymore!

He went back into the room and closed the door as if afraid someone could overhear his thoughts. Was this part of Snape's plan? No, he was almost positive that only he, Harry and his gang knew about this, well, and Dianthe if you count her. As far as he was concerned, Amaranta never told him.

_There's a slight dent in his plan,_ Draco realized in horror. _When they demand her to use her power, she won't be able to do it, and then she'll be worthless to them. Well, at least she still has her magic._

_

* * *

_

Lord Voldermort sat in a grandiose throne. He wasn't one to flaunt his power in such a trivial way, but it always made him feel slightly more powerful to be in a giant, expensive looking chair. He waved his wand lazily and his pet snake appeared before him with a loud _crack!_ If it wasn't for their special bond, he wouldn't be able to apparate his snake from such long distances.

'_Well done, Nagini,_' he hissed as the emerald snake took her place wrapped around his shoulders lovingly.

'_It is a pleasure to be useful to you, Master,'_ Nagini hissed back.

"I had heard you were a parselmouth," a melodic voice resounded from the shadows in Lord Voldermort's chamber.

His face didn't betray the amount of shock he truly felt; his crimson eye's merely glinted dangerously. "Reveal yourself!" he hissed.

The most beautiful woman he had ever seen stepped out of the shadows, and he had seen _many_ a beautiful woman. Her blonde hair (not platinum blonde like the Malfoys, but a sumptuous gold) fell gracefully down her head in perfect waves. Her emerald eyes sparkled devilishly, shadowed by long, curling lashes. Her smooth skin glowed in the darkness, and her soft, red lips were like two rose petals. The rest of her body was very…curvy, and her chest had quite a large bulge in front of it, but not obnoxiously large. Her fingers were long like blades of grass that whispered with her movement. To sum it all up, she was the epitome of perfection.

However, if this girl was going to rely on her looks to try and save herself a good Cruciatus Curse for trespassing, she had another thing coming. Voldermort found sexual desires a useless drawback. They clouded one's better judgment. Voldermort raised a thin eyebrow and said, "Do you have a reason to disturb me, or did you only come for the torture?"

Her laughter was like bells and raindrops. It sickened Voldermort. This girl was just so…not dark.

"I'm glad you have a sense of humor," she smiled. "Otherwise it would've been boring coming here."

"So it's the torture, I see," Voldermort grumbled lazily, and lifted his wand.

The girl remained undeterred. "Better not aim for my heart," she watched him knowingly. "It would be such a waste if you destroyed it while killing me. Once the juices are exposed to the air, it loses its ability to grant immortality."

Voldermort didn't move. "Thank you for the advice, I'll be sure to keep it intact."

"But I'm afraid that you can't kill me."

"Oh? Are Blommarians also invisible? I remember a certain girl who died quite easily. I didn't even need to use the Killing Curse on her."

"Oh, but that was because she expected to die."

"And you don't? I'm sure that even Dumbledore expects to die one day. You _will_ die eventually."

"Yes, but not by your hand," Dianthe was grinning broadly, like a young child who knew a great secret. "You see, magic is almost a work of the mind. You have to will it, either with the conscious or subconscious mind, in order for it to affect you or the environment around you. A wand, you could say, is merely a tool, sort of like a funnel, to narrow your magic to pin-point precision. Wand-less magic is not unheard of. After all, many young witches and wizards do it accidentally. So, I think it's a safe deduction, to believe that magic can be controlled by the mind." She paused, watching Voldermort intently, waiting for any signs of comprehension. When he made no movement, she continued. "So then, it is probable, that simply with the will of thought, I can, oh let's say, shield my self from harm."

"Do you think your pitiful shield made from Wand-less magic will protect you from _my_ Killing Curse?" Voldermort's red eyes glinted dangerously.

"Yes," Dianthe smiled angelically at him. "I very much do. I even believe that if I truly believe with all of my mind and body, that you're attacks won't effect me, my intent will be so powerful, that I could affect your magic, and _weaken_ your curse."

Voldermort wanted to laugh, but it only came out in sarcastic hisses. "You must be Confunded, _girl_, to really think that _you_ could survive an Unforgivable performed by _me!_"

"Would you like to test this theory?" Dianthe was smiling just as dangerously as the Dark Lord opposing her.

"Very much so," his wand had never drooped the entire conversation, and it certainly didn't droop now. "_Avada Kedavra!" _

A stream of emerald light dashed towards the steadfast girl, and illuminated her entire body as if she had just been struck by lightning. But never, not once, did the girl so much as flinch. The light slowly died down, with the occasional fading spark dancing across her, even in this state, perfect hair.

Voldermort was so surprised by this that his eyes widened to the extent that Nagini feared they might fall out of his head, but he quickly regained his composure, narrowing them into dangerous slits.

Dianthe didn't suppress her laughter. It was sickeningly perfect to Voldermort's ears. Did such a perfect being actually exist? This girl's very existence, not because he couldn't kill her, but because she seemed to be the epitome of perfect. Voldermort couldn't find a single fault in her. She was powerful, beautiful, not obnoxious, so probably not spoilt, and she seemed to feel only one emotion: extreme, almost malicious, glee. Such a perfect person mocked his feeble strives to reach perfection, to perfect the world. Perfectionists could find solace in their failure by the saying "nobody's perfect," but this girl was a living contradiction to that statement. It made his continuous failures to kill the Potter boy a —

Dianthe smiled as she saw Voldermort make the connection in his head.

He hadn't been able to kill Harry Potter either. Had Harry used Wand-less magic as a baby on the night he murdered the Potters? Babies were simple creatures, after all, so thinking only a single thought with not the slightest doubt wouldn't be an impossible feat for them, but that wouldn't explain his continuous failures, or even the fact that they cannot touch…No, it wasn't Potter that night that had cast the powerful spell that had significantly altered both their lives. It had been Lily Potter, her bodily will to protect Harry, even to sacrifice herself, that had nearly destroyed him that fateful night. In a way, Dumbledore had been right: _love _(he still found the word sickening) had protected Harry all these years, not because love was more powerful than evil, but because it had been a pure, single will.

The Dark Lord was positively beaming now. So then in that case, a strong feeling of pure evil directed towards Harry would break the spell on him, and the boy would be vulnerable to him once again.

As if reading his thoughts, Dianthe spoke, "So then, using the girl against him would be useless, since she is being render emotionless by Severus Snape's potion. The spell would need to be broken before anyone could kill him, even someone he completely trusted. Pure evil…I don't think even you are _pure_ evil." Dianthe circled around the Dark Lord, her soft fingers tracing his collarbone. "No, Tom Marvolo Riddle, your whole life, you never knew happiness, true happiness. I, on the other hand," she had made about three quarters of her revolution around the throne, so now she had her arm wrapped around him from behind, and she whispered into his ear, "was brought into this world as a happy young lass. I knew happiness, I felt love, admiration, joy, and still, I turned those things away. I _chose_ to go into the darkness, despite all the light influences around me. I rid myself of all things even remotely related to love." She now continued her circling of Lord Voldermort, who merely watched her stoically. "I separated these emotions from myself. I do believe you are familiar with Horcruxes?" At this Voldermort stiffened in his jaw, but other wise made no other change in his appearance. "Emotions make up the soul, Tom. And to answer the question popping up in your bald little head, no, you did not destroy Amaranta's soul, merely suppressed it. A body can still function, even if it were soulless, but there's no fun in that. On the day that I died for the first time in all of my lives, I decided that I would rid myself of all of those useless emotions, since they got me into this mess, and placed them in a very frisky Willow tree." Voldermort cocked an eyebrow at her. She was awfully talkative. "And so thus, I am unable to feel holy emotions such as those. What I feel now is not happiness, but a sinful delight in the pain of others, especially a certain Blommarian." She had come around full circle again, her hand still on his chest. "So, I've decided to strike you a deal, Tom. You let me watch and follow you around at my leisurely, granting me access to anything I see fit, and I shall, not kill, because I now that privilege resides with you, but destroy the spell that protects Potter, oh and I also want Amaranta within six month's time."

"Why wait till then to save your kin?"

Lord Voldermort had never felt nor seen such a blood-curdling smirk. "Now, whoever said I was going to rescue her?"

And on that last note, Dianthe disappeared into the shadows, sure to return again, leaving Voldermort feeling like he had just made a deal with the devil.

* * *

Everything always went wrong for Harry. If anything had gone right for him, Voldermort would be dead, Hermoine and Ron would stop trying to hide their relationship that was so obvious in front of him, they wouldn't be in some run-down, all-night diner, a Death Eater wouldn't be watching them from behind a newspaper, he would still have his parents, Dumbledore, Hedwig, Mad-eye Moody, and Sirius would be alive, and Amaranta would be cuddling up to him in his arms. Of course, none of this would ever happen. But a guy could still dream, right?

"I say we find a quiet place to Disapparate and head for the countryside," Hermoine whispered to the two if them. "Once there, we could send a message to the Order."

"Can you do that talking Patronus thing, then?" asked Ron.

"I've been practicing and I think so," Hermoine answered.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Death Eater pulled out his wand, and Harry mimicked their movements. Ron tackled Hermoine over onto her bench, a spell missing them narrowly and shattering the tile next to them. Harry shouted, "_Stupefy!"_

The giant, blonde Death Eater fell flat on his back as a jet of red light collided with his face. His companion, who they hadn't noticed until now, shot a curse at Ron. Hermoine screamed, _"Petrificus Totalus!" _The Death Eater fell forward like a statue, immobile.

Harry climbed over a broken chair and looked at the darker Death Eater. "I should've recognized him; he was there the night Dumbledore died."

"That's Dolohov," Ron said. "I recognize him from the wanted posters. I think the other one's Thorinn Rowle."

"Never mind what they're called!" Hermoine said, a little hysterical. "How did they find us?"

"Lock the door," Harry told them. "Ron, turn out the lights."

As the door's lock let out a soft click, Ron used his Deluminator, a small firelighter that he got from Dumbledore's will, to extinguish the lights. Harry pointed his wand at each of the Death Eaters heads and quietly said, _"Obliviate!"_

"A Memory Charm?" Hermoine asked, her voice also a whisper now, although there was no need.

"We can't have them knowing where we were," Harry told her. "This will get them off our trail. And we can't kill them that would just make it obvious we were here."

"So where to now?" Ron asked.

"Grimmauld Place," Harry said definitely.

"Don't be silly, Harry, Snape can get in there!"

"Ron's dad said they've put up some new jinxes against Snape, and I'd like nothing more than to meet Snape!"

"But —"

"Hermoine, where else can we go?"

Grimmauld Place was the same as they remembered it, except empty, well, with the exception of Kreacher. The grey rooms were as unwelcoming as ever, and Mrs. Black screamed at the sound of their entry. A fresh coat of dust blanketed the already dusty furniture and the dismal wallpaper was steadily peeling off. Harry grimaced a bit as his scar gave a sudden tingle.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermoine asked him, looking concerned.

"Nothing, Voldermort's just angry again," Harry sighed, but clenched his teeth when a rush of pain pounded his forehead. "Really angry."

"Harry," her tone reminded him of Mrs. Weasley when she was talking with Fred and George. "You shouldn't be so nonchalant about this! Dumbledore wanted you to take Occlumency to suppress this connection."

"I know, I know," Harry quickly said before she could continue and was proud that he showed no more hints at the next wave of pain.

"Guys, it's getting late," Ron yawned. "So can you two call it quits and we can get some sleep?"

"I'll go brush my teeth then," Harry said before nearly bolting up the stairs. As soon as the bathroom door closed behind him, he keeled over onto the floor, clutching his head from all the pain. He didn't resist when pictures flashed through his mind.

"_GAAAAUUGGGHH!" Dolohov was writhing violently on a hard, stone floor. _

_Voldermort sat in a throne (there was no other way to describe it) hissing viciously, but his wand was not out. A log fell in the fire in the fireplace, illuminating Dolohov's torturer. Amaranta, blank faced, almost lifeless, stood erect, her wand pointed at the crying Death Eater. _

"_Do you want more, Dolohov, or shall we end this and feed you to Nagini?" Voldermort breathed. "You called me out to tell me that Harry Potter has escaped, _again?_"_

_A light voice behind Voldermort laughed sweetly, and a thin, smooth arm snaked around his shoulders in a backward embrace. "Your henchmen are really quite intelligent, Tommy," Dianthe's green eyes shined in the eerie firelight. "I can see why your plans have failed until now. No matter how powerful and cunning _you _are, if your tools don't work, nothing can get done. It's a good thing I came here when I did. You need some competent help, love." _

_Voldermort frowned deeply at the gorgeous girl that whispered in his ear. "Never call me Tommy again, or I'll kill Amaranta here and now." _

"_Even without a nose, you can still be cute when your angry," Dianthe giggled, but withdrew. _

"_Draco," Harry had not noticed the young Malfoy heir until now. "Why don't you join Amaranta in toying with my Death Eater? She's enjoying it so much, I'd hate for you to miss out on all the fun." _

_Draco's face reflected fear and disgust, but his eyes flashed dangerously. He reluctantly waved his wand at Dolohov and he burst into flames. "Amaranta, finish him," Voldermort hissed. _

_Without a flinch, Amaranta shot a jet of green light at Dolohov, and he remained motionless. _

"Harry, did you forget your toothbrush?" Hermoine's voice came from the other side of the door.

"No, I have it," Harry was surprised at how level his voice was considering how fast his heart was racing.


	25. Obeying With Amaranta

**A/N:** Little pieces of what everyone is doing. Wah! The end is so close, I'm trying hard not to skip everything and just go straight to the final battle! Anywho, enjoy, and don't forget to review. More reviews faster I get the chapters out.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. I only take credit for Amarnta and the Blommarians. I made that up.

WARNINGS: Draco's mild tongue and Peter Pettigrew being his disgusting self.

**Obeying With Amaranta**

Life in the Malfoy Manor was unpleasant, not to say that it was particularly enjoyable before, but what place would be considered "homey" when it was crawling with Death Eaters and the Dark Lord himself made frequent visits? Never before had Draco's own mansion felt like a death trap.

_They still can't take this place away from me,_ Draco thought as he walked out into the beautifully kept gardens, tugging Amaranta by the wrist. He had managed to rescue her from certain torture and humiliation right under the Death Eaters' noses. _With the Dark Lord now controlling her, she's a sitting duck for those hooligans. Even if she's a mindless puppet right now, I don't want her to be taken advantage of. _

He looked at the blank face of the girl, almost as if she were bored. _I'll protect you, Amaranta._

Finally, he had reached the center of the shrubbery maze in the dead center of the Malfoy gardens. It was nothing compared to the magical maze used for the Triwizard Tournament two years ago (although this one was enchanted to trap everyone, excluding Malfoy blood, from escaping, even from the skies). Here, he could keep Amaranta safe, at least until they ordered his mother or father to find him. They knew of his secret hiding spot, but believed in privacy, so never breached it unless there was an emergency.

In the middle of the maze was a whitewashed, wooden gazebo with dark green rose vines intertwined along its cherry wood beams. A beautiful porcelain fountain of a couple of mermaids, which circled one another, sprayed water in their trails. The two statues watched the two teenagers as they walked into the gazebo and sat down on the old, wooden bench. Because of the mazes enchantment, the gazebo and fountain hadn't been maintained in a long time, because no Malfoy was going to lower themselves to clean _anything_.

Maybe that was why this had been Amaranta favorite area in all of Malfoy Manor. It was like they entered into their own world, unaffected by time, where they could sit together on the wooden bench, his arms pulling her by the waist so that his entire right side was warm with her body heat, and just forget that there was ever such a thing as a Dark Wizard or a prophecy or a war. Now that he thought about it, this was where he had proposed to Amaranta. He had only been about six or seven then, and didn't fully understand what marriage was, just that he would get to be with Amaranta forever. And if he didn't fully understand it, then Amaranta surely didn't know the term either.

"_Hey, Amaranta, do you want to be a bride someday?" _Draco had asked her with unabashed curiosity.

"_What's a bride?"_ Amaranta replied seriously.

"_A bride is a woman who marries a man,"_ Draco rolled his eyes, even he knew that. _"When a man and a woman decide to live together for the rest of their lives, they get married. When that happens, the woman is called a bride, and the man is called a groom!" _

"_Oh, but I haven't decided to live together with anyone yet." _

"_Well, why don't you live with me forever?" _Young Draco grasped Amaranta's supple fingers in his small hands, his eyes aglow with desire. _"We've been together for a long time now, and I like you so I want to be with you forever." _

"_I like you, too, Draco," _a light flush danced across Amaranta's cheeks, but she was very serious. _"I would love to live with you forever."_

"_Then, will you be my bride?" _

"_Only if you be my groom," _Amaranta's mouth widened in a tiny smile. Draco couldn't resist the urge to hug her.

He still couldn't.

However, it would be slightly more enjoyable if she would show a reaction, _any _reaction. He just couldn't get into the mood with her looking as bored as a two-by-four. He released Amaranta and decided to gaze at the fabulous scenery. Considering how earthy the place was, it was a wonder he never figured out that she was a Blommarian before. Who knows? Maybe this place was influenced by Amaranta's emotions from back then. This would be a good time…

"Amaranta," he said softly, it seemed odd to speak in the quiet, excluding the trickle of water from the fountain. "Move one of these rose bushes with your will."

Because of the Dark Lord's first order to her "Obey all of my Death Eaters," and Narcissa had ordered her to "Obey my son," he had as much power over her as the rest of the inhabitants of his home.

Amaranta made no acknowledgement that she had even heard him, except that her eyes lost their sleepy, inward look, and glared purposefully at the wild rosebushes. Nothing happened.

Draco couldn't help but sigh in disappointment. He hadn't expected anything to happen. But he could always hope.

* * *

"Get out NOW!" Voldermort hissed at the closed black door.

"Patience is a virtue," a glucose sweet voice sang from inside the bathroom.

"When have I ever been virtuous?" Voldermort rasped, boiling blood rushing through his face. Even the Dark Lord had to use the bathroom. He had torn apart his soul, not his bladder.

"You can hold it," Dianthe giggled. He could hear her humming some unnamed tune.

Voldermort growled. She was enjoying this. "The deal was that you would observe me, not keep me from using the facility! Salazar, why those stupid Malfoys only have one bathroom in their house, I'll never know!"

"Oh, they had more," Dianthe teased. "I just charmed them all away."

"You filthy, low —" Voldermort couldn't finish his sentence because the door swung open, missing his face by a hair.

"Now that's no way to talk to a lady," Dianthe smiled at him through rosy lips. She was brushing her hair.

"_Avada Kedavra!" _Voldermort shouted the curse on reflex. He had kept her waiting for an hour and thirty-seven minutes _brushing her hair?!_

She remained motionless and standing, staring at him boredly. The electric shock of the Unforgivable Curse had caused her hair to rise a bit, like two silk flags on either side of her head. "Ah, phooey, now I'll have to brush my hair again!"

"Brush your hair somewhere else," Voldemort ordered. "I need to use the loo, so get the hell out!"

Dianthe giggled, but walked towards the door anyway. "I didn't know you still had a dick, Tom. I figured it was somewhere with your nose —"

Voldemort had shot the Tongue Tying Jinx at her, and now her lips flopped about sluggishly. She spoke, but it all came out as gibberish. He slammed the door closed in her face, and answered nature's call.

* * *

Harry looked out through one of the dusty windows of number twelve Grimmauld Place. Two figures in black cloaks were wandering around suspiciously in the square in front of the house.

"Death Eaters, for sure," Ron muttered. "Reckon they know we're in here?"

"I don't think so," Hermoine said, but she didn't look all too sure. "Or else they'd have sent Snape in after us."

"D'you reckon he's been in here and had his tongue tied by Moody's curse?" Ron asked.

"Yes, otherwise he'd have been able to tell that lot how to get in, wouldn't he? But they're probably watching to see whether we turn up. They know that Harry owns the house, after all."

"How do they know that?" Harry asked.

"Wizarding wills are examined by the Ministry, remember? They'll know Sirius left you this place."

Suddenly, they heard a tap on the front door, then the clicks and grinding of the chain. Everyone seemed to turn into solid stone, as all eyes were focused on the black door. Harry pulled out his wand and moved to the shadows and waited. The door opened and a tall, cloaked figure came in.

"_Severus Snape?"_ Moody's voice asked.

"It was not I who killed you, Albus," said a quiet voice.

The dust-figure exploded again, and the intruder came forward, but the dark cloud left behind made it impossible to see his face. Harry pointed his wand into the middle of it. "Don't move!"

Ron and Hermoine came running down the stairs, and also pointed their wands at the intruder.

"Hold your fire; it's me, Remus!"

"Oh thank goodness," Hermoine lowered her wand, as did Ron.

But Harry did not. "Show yourself!" he commanded.

Lupin moved into the lamplight, hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I am Remus John Lupin, werewolf, sometimes known as Moony, one of the four creators of the Marauder's Map, married Nymphadora, usually known as Tonks, and I taught you how to produce a Patronus, Harry, which takes the form of a stag."

"Oh, all right," said Harry, lowering his wand. "But I had to check, didn't I?"

"Speaking as your ex-Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, I quite agree. Ron, Hermoine, you shouldn't lower your defenses so easily."

"So what happened after we left the Burrow?" Ron asked anxiously.

"Thanks to Kingsley's warning, most of the wedding guests Disapparated away in time."

"Were they Death Eaters or Ministry people?"

"A mixture, but to all intents and purposes, they're the same thing now. They interrogated who was left for hours. Of course, no one except for the Order knew you were there, Harry. At the same time, Death Eaters were forcing their way into every Order-related house in the country. No deaths," Lupin sighed, "but they were rough, to say the least. The Ministry is on the Death Eaters' side now. They've got the power to perform brutal spells without fear of identification or arrest. They managed to penetrate every defensive spell we cast against them, and once inside, they were completely open about why they'd come."

"And are they bothering to give an excuse for torturing Harry's whereabouts out of people?" Hermoine asked.

"Well," Lupin said quietly and then pulled out a copy of the _Daily Prophet_. "You'll know sooner or later anyway."

Harry smoothed out the paper. A huge photograph of his own face filled the front page. He read the headline over it:

**WANTED FOR QUESTION ABOUT**

**THE DEATH OF ALBUS DUMBLEDORE**

Harry pushed the paper away. He didn't want to read any more of what it said. Hermoine and Ron let out roars of outrage.

"So Death Eaters have taken over the _Daily Prophet_ too?" Hermoine fumed.

Lupin nodded.

"But surely people realize what's going on?"

"The coup has been smooth and virtually silent," said Lupin. "The official version of Scrimgeour's murder is that he resigned; he's been replaced by Pius Thicknesse, who is under the Imperius Curse. Voldemort is playing a very clever game. His puppet, Thicknesse, is taking care of everyday business, leaving Voldemort free to extend his power beyond the Ministry. Naturally, people have deduced what's going on. They whisper. They daren't confide in one another, not knowing who to trust; they are scared to speak out, in case their suspicions are true and their families are targeted. Declaring himself might have evoked rebellion: remaining masked has created confusion, uncertainty, and fear. But that's not all. Look at page two."

Hermoine handled the newspaper, flipping through the pages until she reached said page. She looked at the page with disgust, and read aloud: _"Muggle-born Register. The Ministry of Magic is undertaking a survey of so-called 'Muggle-borns,' the better to understand how they came to possess magical secrets. _

"_Recent research undertaken by the Department of Mysteries reveals that magic can only be passed down from person to person when Wizards reproduce. Where no proven Wizarding ancestry exists, therefore, the so-called Muggle-born is likely to have obtained magical power by theft or force._

"_The Ministry is determined to root out such usurpers of magical power, and to this end has issued an invitation to every so-called Muggle-born to present themselves for interview by the newly appointed Muggle-born Registration Commission." _

"How are people supposed to have 'stolen' magic?" Ron said. "It's mental. If you could steal magic, there wouldn't be any Squibs, would there?"

"I know," said Lupin. "But unless you can prove that you have at least one close Wizarding relative, you are now deemed to have taken your magical power illegally and must suffer punishment."

"What he's doing right now is no different from Hitler!" Harry growled. Lupin and Ron looked at him quizzically, but Hermoine nodded knowingly. "What's Voldermort planning for Hogwarts?"

"Attendance is now compulsory for every young witch and wizard," he replied. "It's a change because that was never obligatory before. Of course, nearly every witch and wizard in Britain attended Hogwarts, but parents had the choice to either home school their children or send them abroad. This way, Voldemort will have every member of the Wizarding community under his eye from a young age. And it's also another way of weeding out Muggle-borns, because students must be given Blood Status — meaning they have proven to the Ministry that they are of Wizard descent — before they are allowed to attend."

Anger and revolt rose up within Harry. This was horrible — no sickening! He knew that Voldemort and his followers were prejudiced against any not pureblood, but this was the start of another holocaust! Was this guy that positively mental?

* * *

Draco Malfoy never left Amaranta's side, except when the Dark Lord asked for her specifically, in which case, he didn't want to go anyway. She always came out perfectly untouched. He found this extremely odd, since he found out that Dianthe was accompanying the Dark Wizard. He found this whole situation completely odd. Both of them had every reason to wish for Amaranta's death, but she remained completely untouched. Dianthe never so much as lifted a finger, just commented, and the Dark Lord simply made Amaranta torture people (not that this was a minor thing, Amaranta would probably go insane once her administered the antidote).

He supposed Snape had something to do with it. This whole thing was his plan anyway, although he did blanch at the sight of Dianthe. She always giggled at him, as if they shared a secret. Maybe Dianthe was a spy? No, she would never work for someone else. After all, she could stay by the Dark Lord's side without being under his command, an impossible feat for anyone else.

And since Amaranta didn't seem to be injured from these secret meetings, he paid them little attention. No, he had more worrying matters than what the Dark Lord did to Amaranta when they were alone, and it was called Peter Pettigrew. The sniveling little man had been watching Amaranta ever since she arrived, and as of late, he hadn't been able to tear his view away from her, except during the dark meetings in which his master was present, lest he deem his desires punishable.

Pettigrew's infatuations with his childhood friend, and soon-to-be lover if they ever made it out of this alive, disgusted him. The man was hardly something to look at. He was about Draco's height, if smaller, his two front teeth were sharp, pointed and were always exposed, he seemed to need to have his elbows bent at every possible moment, so that his hands hung limply against his chest, like a rat's, he was balding slowly, and his hair thinning, his pock-marked face was sallow and fat all at the same time. A truly disgusting creature.

And this creature longed for _his_ woman. He could see the lust in the rat Animagus' eyes. He had caught him leading Amaranta into one of the many rooms in his own manor, and had quickly stolen her away. He had to be very careful about he did things. He couldn't openly oppose Pettigrew, lest it give the other Death Eaters a reason to release their bloodlust on him, or Amaranta. They're excitement at having a new toy to torture was quickly dimming, since they were so busy trying to find Harry Potter. And since Pettigrew was so useless, he was left here.

"Don't obey any of Peter Pettigrew's orders," he had demanded of Amaranta one day.

"I cannot," she said bluntly. "It will contradict my Master's order: 'Obey all of my Death Eaters.'"

"Dammit," he cursed under his breath. "Ok., then, never be alone in a room with Peter Pettigrew."

"As you command," Amaranta bowed her head slightly, but her face remained placid.

He tried to think of any loopholes Pettigrew would use to get past this one. "Never allow Peter Pettigrew to touch you or make contact in anyway," he said after an idea struck him.

"As you command," her robotic voice complied.

Draco frowned. He was going to go insane if Potter didn't show up soon. It wasn't like Amaranta hadn't been like this before, but this time was so much more extreme. Not a single spark of revolt would flash in her eyes, not any look of disgust or hatred. Not even that mischievous look she would have when planning something. There was simply nothing. Her eyes were a void. Two blank orbs sitting in her head, merely tools used for sight. He couldn't stand it anymore. He needed some reaction, some small glimmer of the woman he loved back.

"Amaranta, kiss me," he ordered darkly.

"As you command," her robotic reply came and she took a step forward and placed her lips on his. And that was it.

"That's not a kiss!" he shouted angrily, pushing her away. "That's just merely touching lips! This is a kiss!"

He grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and pulled her to him in a passionate kiss, making it as erotic and enticing as his smooth Malfoy moves could muster. He pulled back studying her for any reaction.

"I apologize," she said, her breathing even, despite his heavy breaths. "Next time, I shall use my tongue."

"No, no! That's not what I meant!" He screamed in frustration. "Never mind! Don't kiss me; you don't seem to be able to do it. Damn potion." He froze when he felt a gaze upon them. He flicked around to find two yellow eyes watching them from the crack in the doorway.

Noticing that he had been found out, Peter Pettigrew stepped out into the open, a crooked smile on his face.

"Pettigrew," Draco spat. "Don't you have anything better to do than stalk a mindless puppet, or does the Dark Lord not deem you worthy enough to give you a mission."

The grotesque man blushed indignantly and his only reply was: "Amaranta, Bind him!"

Before Draco could do anything, ropes jumped out of Amaranta's wand and wrapped around him. He fell against the wall, immobile. Draco growled angrily. Damn Death Eater.

"My father won't take to kindly to you doing this to me," Draco threatened.

"I do not fear your _wandless_ father!" Pettigrew chortled.

"You can't do anything to her, I —"

"I know of the orders you issued her," he turned to look lustfully at the blank-faced girl. "And even if I can't _touch_ her, I can still watch. And we're not exactly alone, either. Amaranta, undress."

The blood rushed to Draco's cheeks. Damn that nasty rat, and damn himself for not seeing this loophole.

"Amaranta, stop what you're doing right now!"

Amaranta, who was halfway through taking off her cloak, looked to see Severus Snape standing in the front door.

"S-Snape!" Peter choked out. "Aren't you supposed to be at Hogwarts?"

"The Dark Lord has asked for my audience, though where I go and why is none of your business," the newly-appointed Headmaster said with contempt. "Amaranta, un-Bind Draco Malfoy. Wormtail, you couldn't get any women in the past, and you still can't get this one, even if she has to obey your commands. Amaranta, you are not to harm or use any offensive magic on Draco Malfoy, is that clear?"

"Yes," Amaranta bowed her head, buttoning her cloak.

"Good, now, Mr. Malfoy, take more precautions in protecting her, and Womrtail, get out of my sight, and I so much as find Draco Malfoy in any harm, well, lets just say the Dark Lord will be short one useless minion."

With a final glare, Snape walked out of the door, his robes billowing behind him. Whenever they got out of this, Draco swore he'd give half his fortune to Snape.


	26. Unfurling With Amaranta

**A/N: **The climax is soon! We've got only a few chapters left! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own not the Potter of Harry.

**Unfurling With Amaranta**

Snape couldn't help but raise a curious eyebrow when he found the Dark Lord alone. All the Death Eaters had become so accustomed to Dianthe's presence, like an abnormal growth, and it was now a rarity to find her missing.

"She's torturing the Blommarian," Voldemort answered Snape's unasked question. "That is her whole purpose, is it not?"

"That may not be the only thing," Snape said in a sepulchral voice. "I have noticed some activity in the Forbidden Forest lately. A giant tree is growing in there. It's not very noticeable now, but it's growing very fast for a tree. I predict that it will be as tall as Hogwarts castle by the end of this month.

"Naturally, of course, I decided to check it out, but there's a strong barrier so that I cannot get within a kilometer of the tree. Since it's a tree, and Amaranta is currently being controlled by the Mannequin Potion, I figured it might be the work of the _other_ one."

Voldemort didn't move his gaze from the dim light of the fireplace. His bald head was thinking, calculating, plotting. What was this girl planning? It had only been about two months since they had come to an _agreement_, and she had said she wanted Amaranta in six month's time. Did she need the other Blommarian for her plans with this tree (oh, there was no doubt it was her doing). Could this be the reason that she was waiting for six months before taking her "revenge" on the girl.

_Then_, Voldemort deduced, _that should mean that she's simply using the whole Mannequin Potion idea to keep Amaranta within her sights until the six months are over. Since she hasn't simply killed Amaranta to keep her from running away, that must mean she needs her alive at that point in time. What usefulness could she pose alive, that a normal human couldn't? Dianthe is already a Blommarian, so she needs not eat her heart. Then why would she need Amaranta alive? _

Voldemort had been so deep into his thoughts that he had completely forgotten about Snape. "After you finish brewing up more of the Mannequin Potion, return to Hogwarts and send me detailed reports of the changes that occur in the Forbidden Forest."

Snape bowed deeply before leaving. Now, to decipher how to come into possession of the Elder Wand.

* * *

Unknown hands pulled Harry off the ground. Before he could utter a breath of protest, someone had removed the blackthorn wand from his pocket. His face felt puffy and swollen, and his glasses had fallen out, so all he could see were blurred figures wrestling with Ron and Hermoine.

"No! Leave him alone!" he heard Hermoine cry.

"Your boyfriend's going to have a whole lot worse done to him if he's on my list," a rasping, familiar voice said menacingly. "Delicious girl…I do enjoy the softness of skin…"

Harry's stomach did a few somersaults. It was Fenrir Greyback, werewolf and mass murderer. Suddenly, he was cast to the ground again, and felt a sharp blow to his diaphragm. "What's your name?"

"Dudley," said Harry.

"And your first name?"

"Vernon. Vernon Dudley."

"Check the list, Scabior," Greyback said. "And what's your name, ginger?"

"Bardy Weadley," form the muffled sound, Harry could tell his voice was full of blood.

"And lastly, your pretty little friend…what's your name?"

"Penelope Clearwater," said a terrified, but convincing Hermoine.

"What's your Blood Status?"

"Half-blood."

"Easy enough to check," said Scabior. "But the 'ole lot of 'em look like they could be 'ogwarts age —"

"We'b lebt," said Ron.

"And you decided to go camping?" Scabior said. "And just for a laugh, you thought you'd use the Dark Lord's name?"

"Nod a laugh," said Ron. "Aggiden."

"Accident?" There was jeering laughter. "Bind them with the other two prisoners!"

Harry was dragged by the hair and pushed into a sitting position, then bounded back-to-back with other people. Harry was still blinded, barely able to see anything through his puffed-up eyes.

"Hey, Greyback, look a this," Scabior said.

"'_ermoine Granger,"_ Scabior was saying, _"the mudblood who is known to be traveling with 'arry Potter." _

"You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you."

"It isn't! It isn't me!" Hermoine cried. It was as good as a confession.

"…_known to be traveling with Harry Potter,_" repeated Greyback. "What's that on your forehead, Vernon? I thought you wore glasses, Potter?"

"I found glasses!" yelled one of the Snatchers.

Suddenly, glasses were rammed back onto Harry's face.

"It is!" rasped Greyback in delight. "We've caught Potter!"

"…to the Ministry?"

"To hell with the Ministry," Greyback snarled. "They'll just take all the credit. I say we take him straight to You-Know-Who."

"Will you summon 'im? _'ere?_" gasped Scabior.

"No. I haven't got — they say he's using Malfoy's place as a base. We'll take the boy there. Take a hold of the others, I'll do Potter!" Harry could feel his long, yellow nails scraping into his scalp. "On three! One — two — three!"

They Disapparated, pulling the prisoners with them. The prisoners lurched into one another as they landed on a country lane. Harry saw wrought-iron gates at the end of a long drive. They walked down the cobble stone path up to the large golden doors of Malfoy Manor. Light spilled over them.

"What is this?" said a cold woman's voice.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" rasped Greyback.

"Who are you?"

"You know me!" the werewolf cried indignantly. "Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!"

"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" Scabior piped up. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And see this 'ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am —"

Narcissa Malfoy studied Harry's face. "Bring them in," she said finally and Harry was pushed up broad stone steps.

"My son, Draco, is off with the Blommarian girl," Narcissa said. "If that is Harry Potter, he will know."

Harry's heart leapt at the mention of Amaranta. So she was alive! And with Draco, but that only ensured her safety.

"What is this?" he heard the sneering drawl of Lucius Malfoy's voice.

"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa said. "Draco, come here."

Harry, who had been avoiding Lucius' gaze, suddenly glanced up to see a blank-faced Amaranta. His stomach turned over. She looked completely life-less and uncaring. She didn't so much as blink when she saw them.

"Oh, so t'ere's been a pretty a pretty ickle girl 'ere the 'ole time and you never even nibbled 'er, Greyback?" Scabior seemed slightly amused.

"I'm not a vegetarian," Greyback growled with digust. Then turned back to Draco, "Well, boy?"

Draco shifted his feet.

"Well, Draco?" Lucius Malfoy said avidly. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

"I can't — can't be sure," said Draco.

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer! Draco, if we are the ones to hand in Potter, everything will be forgiv —"

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy," Greyback warned.

"Of course not! Of course not!" Lucius said impatiently. He approached Harry himself, scanning Harry's face with his eyes.

"We ha better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa said. "If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing…Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"

"You're right," Lucius straightened himself. "Amaranta, come here and tell us if this is Harry Potter or not."

Amaranta stepped forward, next to Draco and peered at him coldly. He hadn't felt completely merciless until now. Her once vibrant emerald eyes were dull and faded like two ancient orbs from a lost civilization. In fact, that's what they were.

"It's impossible to be a hundred percent certain, but from my memory, I'd say that there is a eighty-three percent chance that this is Harry James Potter." Her voice was so robotic

"Eighty-three is a good number, Narcissa," Lucius said hopefully.

"But…"

Lucius glared at Amaranta for uttering those words. "But?"

"But I have a strange inclination…a feeling if you will," Amaranta's face remained completely stoic, but her voice sounded pained. "There's a message leading to my brain telling me that this is not Harry Potter. Or at least not to tell you."

Lucius Malfoy looked like he was about to slap her, but maintained his composure. "The potion is wearing off. Draco, go fetch the potions Snape left and administer them to the girl."

Draco didn't say a word, merely left the room. However, Harry could have sworn Draco glanced at his direction, a spark of hope in those silver eyes. And just as he left Bellatrix Lestrange came in.

"What happened? What is it, Cissy?" She turned her pointed eyes on the prisoners, and they stopped on Hermoine. "Surely this is the Mud-Blood girl?"

"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" Lucius cried. "And beside her we think Potter. Potter and his friends at last!"

"Potter!" Bellatrix shrieked. "Are you sure? Take these prisoners to the dungeons, all except for the Mud-Blood."

"No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"

Bellatrix struck him across the face. "If she dies under questioning, you shall be next. Blood Traitor is next to Mud-Blood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing to them — yet."

She took out a small silver knife from her robes and cut Hermoine free from the rest of the prisoners. She dragged the girl by the hair into the middle of the room. Greyback shuffled them across the room and through a dark passageway. They were forced down a flight of stairs, and through a heavy door at the bottom. There was a blood-curtling scream from above.

"HERMOINE!" Ron bellowed, and struggled against his bonds.

"Harry? Ron?" a weak voice called to them.

"Luna?"

"Yes!" the small girl looked weak. Beside her was a familiar face. "Dean and Mr. Ollivander are here too!"

Suddenly, there was a loud crack and Dobby, the house-elf appeared. "Harry Potter," he squeaked. "Dobby has come to rescue you."

"But how did you —?"

An awful scream drowned out Harry's words. Hermoine was being tortured, so he cut to the essentials.

"Can you Disapparate out of this cellar?"

Dobby nodded, ears flapping.

"And you can take humans with you?"

Dobby nodded again.

"Good, Dobby, I want you to take Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander to —"

"Bill and Fleur's," said Ron. "Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!"

"And then come back, can you do that, Dobby?"

"Of course, Harry Potter," whispered the little elf, and he trodded over to the others. He grabbed Mr. Ollivander's lifeless hand, and the others'. There was a loud crack, and they were gone. Only seconds after this had happened, the door burst open. Harry and Ron prepared to charge their intruder, but stopped when they saw Amaranta's red face.

"What are you guys staring for? Come on!" she yelled at them and pulled them by their wrists. "Here's your wands."

"Dianthe was out for a while, but she's come back now," Draco's voice floated down to them from the top of the stairs. "We've gotta hurry, before she realizes what's going on."

"Draco!" Ron growled. "Wait a sec — Dianthe? What's she doing here?"

"Long story, Ron," Amaranta said through breaths. "Just know that she is our powerful enemy, and _will_ kill us."

"Hold on," Harry said, just as they reached the door. "Why is Draco helping _us?_"

"I'm not helping you," Draco sneered with dislike. "I'm helping Amaranta, and if she wants to rescue you guys, then fine!"

They crept towards the now open door, and looked around. Hermoine lay on the floor, barely alive, as Bellatrix stood over her, sleeve pushed back, and her finger touched the Dark Mark.

At once, Harry's scar burst open. He could feel Voldemort's rage embue him. He had told them not to summon him for anything less than Potter. They had better have a good explanation…

"I think we can dispose of the Mud-Blood," Bellatrix's voice said. "Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOO!" Ron burst into the room, _"Expelliarmus!" _Her wand flew into the air to be caught by Harry. Harry whipped around to the stunned Lucius and pointed his wand and yelled, _"Stupefy!" _

Amaranta had succeeded in binding Narcissa, and Draco seemed a little unnerved about his parents being brought to their knees.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Bellatrix was holding Hermoine up by the hair, the silver knife to her throat.

"Drop your wands," she ordered "Drop them or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Everyone froze, clutching their wands tighter.

"I said drop them!" she screeched.

Harry dropped his wand at his feet, as did Ron and Amaranta.

"You as well, Draco," Bellatrix sneered. "You have betrayed your family!"

"I can't betray someone whom I was never with!" Draco's voice quivered, and he dropped the wand.

There was a loud crash to the left, and everyone turned to see a giant green root burst through the glass window and smack Bellatrix square in the chest. Within seconds, the root divided and it caught Hermoine, who had been flung with the impact, and the other pinned Bellatrix to the wall.

"You forgot, Bella," Amaranta grinned. "I don't need a wand to fight."

"Neither do I," said an angelic voice behind her.

Amaranta flung around just in time to see a flash of ashen grey. She flew back and hit the giant tree root on her back. Dianthe stood triumphantly in the doorway, a dead-looking tree root wiggling beside her.

The sudden movement sprung the battle back into life. Harry, Ron, and Draco bent down for their wands, but Scabior, Greyback and the other Snatchers shot spells at them at the same time. They all dodged with their wands in hand, and counterjinxed their opponents.

Meanwhile, Amaranta stood up shakily, glaring at her beautiful opponent. She flung her hand in a scissor-like manner, and two sharp leaves wet flying towards Dianthe like ninja stars. They sliced through Dianthe's grey tree root, but were blocked by a light-blue shield.

Amaranta took this time to run and jump through the window. As soon as her feet touched the ground, the grass around her turned into spikes and shot towards the girl she knew was following her, however, the blades stopped just before they hit her, and turned around to attack Amaranta.

Amaranta dodged to the left, and sent more leaf ninja stars at Dianthe who easily blocked them and sent the grass blades after Amaranta again, who was pushed out of the way, by a tree root. She glanced over her shoulder and then at the green bushes in front of her. If she was going to fight Dianthe, she needed to do it in a place that Dianthe would be at a disadvantage. A place that opposed her…

An idea struck the young Blommarian just as a deadly root dove toward her. She smacked it away with her own, and ran towards the garden maze. Dianthe followed after her, laughing.

"Your only running towards a cage, Amaranta!" her sweet voice danced across the wind. "I can control those bushes just as easily as you!"

_I'm not aiming for the bushes, stupid,_ Amaranta thought, and dashed in toward the maze, green flashing past her.

She created a hole in one of the bushes with her mind, and stepped through, to close it off quickly behind her. Not caring about the sharp twigs and thorns that slashed at her robes, Amaranta continued to run through the bushes.

It was a dangerous gamble. This maze would entrap any non-Malfoy blood in its green clutches. She could only hope that her friendship towards Draco would somehow save her.

She decided to stop traveling through bushes and walk down the path. There was no need to run, now that she was sure Dianthe was lost in the maze as well. Her breath slowly calmed down and it was now quiet. Her heart pounded loudly in her chest. It was then that Amaranta realized that she no longer had her wand. It was still lying somewhere inside Malfoy Manor.

It had felt like hours in the labyrinth. She had walked on for who knows how long until she finally came to the dead center of the gardens. The whitewashed gazebo called to her and she eagerly sat down on the old bench. She could relax now. She needed only to wait for Draco to come find her, and then they could leave Dianthe to wander around in this cursed maze forever.

Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. The red queen roses that crawled up the side of the gazebo were slowly wilting and turning an ashen black.

She had no time to react. A shockwave of pain radiated through her and she looked down at the source of her pain. A black rose was poking out of her stomach, painted crimson with her blood. Amaranta looked to the side and saw a blur of golden hair before passing out.


	27. Battling With Amaranta

**A/N: **And the epic battle commences! The next one will be the last chapter!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.

**Battling With Amaranta**

Things only seemed to be worse for Draco. This whole plan Snape had concocted was for him to rescue Amaranta and run somewhere far away, possibly leave the country. Now, he was stuck with his arch nemesis, Harry Potter, and Amaranta had been kidnapped by Dianthe, who whisked her away to torture her no doubt, if she wasn't already dead. He had watched them fly out of the window, and knew that Amaranta would try to use the maze to her advantage. When he got to the center, their special spot, he found it a barren area filled with dead plants and blood. The mermaids looked at him with fear and worry. He prayed to Merlin that they would talk, but that was impossible, even if they were enchanted.

But at least they had a plan.

From what Draco had overheard Snape talking about with Voldemort, Dianthe had some funny business going on in the Forbidden Forest. So to Hogwarts they went. However, according to Harry, they had more business there than saving Amaranta.

"I would really love to help, Draco," Harry said with all seriousness. "But there is something that I must do. If I don't do this, then Amaranta will merely be out of the frying pan and into the fire."

"What frying pan?" Draco asked, confused.

"It's a Muggle expression," Harry sighed at the Malfoy heir's ignorance. "Listen, if I drop everything to go save Amaranta, and don't doubt that I wouldn't, she would be free from Dianthe, yes, but what's to stop Voldemort from killing her afterwards? We need to split up, you save Amaranta, and I'll kill Voldemort."

"How is going to Hogwarts going to kill the Dark Lord?" Draco asked suspiciously.

"None of your business," Harry snapped. "Even if I did tell you, it'd take forever to explain anyway. Just save Amaranta, alright? Or are you so opposed to that idea?"

"Of course not!" Draco said, red-cheeked. It was better this way. He didn't Potter to steal any of the glory, but he had been expecting a row with him over who gets to save her. Was Potter no longer his rival?

So they had split up, and now Draco walked the grounds of Hogwarts Castle in the dark, all alone. He found something odd about the grounds. The sounds his feet were making weren't of those on cool grass, but of hard dirt.

"_Lumos!"_ he whispered and nearly dropped his wand. He _was_ walking on dirt. Not that that was such a terrifying thing, but that the whole entire estate of Hogwarts was completely lifeless. There were no trees, no flowers, and no grass. He looked over towards the Forbidden Forest and saw a large, silhouette. It was a giant tree, he realized. It was humongous now. Dianthe…

* * *

Amaranta woke up unable to move. Her eyes half-lidded, she looked around to decipher why. Ashen roots held her steadfast to a tree, begrudging her even an inch of movement. There was a dim light that illuminated the area. She was in a forest, a dark, crowded forest. She looked down at the ground and saw a twisted lump and followed it up to a large, brown wall with strange indentions. No, this wasn't a wall, Amaranta realized. It was the trunk of a tree. A very big tree. 

"So you're awake," Dianthe's angelic voice brought Amaranta's attention to her. It was then that Amaranta realized it was the tip of her wand that was the source of the light.

"That's good, I want you to witness this," Dianthe smiled at Amaranta's confusion.

Dianthe lifted her hands above her head, and the ground fell away. Or rather the tree holding Amaranta grew taller and taller, until Amaranta could see leaves on the humongous tree. Soon, they had reached one of the large, flat branches, and the tree stopped growing. Dianthe, who had been riding the tree along with Amaranta, stepped off lightly onto the outstretched branch, and it bent a little under her weight. She flicked her wrist, and Amaranta was dragged along after her. The tree which imprisoned her broke apart from its trunk, and sprouted little legs.

Amaranta was closer inward towards the base of the branch. With the dim lighting, it was hard to tell her surroundings. They had stopped, what Amaranta felt, to be a few paces from the trunk of the massive tree.

"_Dubli Lemos!" _Dianthe's clear voice cut through the night air.

The tip of the Blommarian's wand glowed brighter, and the light dripped of the wand, to create a small orb that floated around Amaranta's head and then forward, towards the trunk.

Amaranta gave a terrified, little gasp when she finally could discern her surroundings. In the trunk of the tree, was a young boy, his face cold and a little blue. His eyes were closed, as if he were asleep. His skin was so white that his veins shown through, but his hair was a dark black.

"J-Jake!" Amaranta cried, tears streaming down her face.

"Yes," Dianthe hissed evilly. "This is the reason I have not killed you yet." She walked towards the cold body, and caressed the boy's cheek lovingly. "I plan to bring back this boy. He is a lifeless body right now, but once he eats your heart, he'll live, and he'll live forever, with me!" She turned her glowing green eyes towards her prisoner. "Using old Blommarian arts and Dark Magic, I am about to perform the impossible. Bringing the dead back to the living realm. Your stupid tree was only able to recreate the body, but your heart will bring back his soul. Heh, funny, he always did want your heart."

Amaranta wasn't laughing. She did not find this funny at all. Something egged at her from the back of her mind. Something Dianthe said…

The golden haired girl noticed her prisoner's confusion and answered her unasked question. "Why, Amaranta, I'm sure she'd be hurt that you didn't recognize her. After all, wasn't this your favorite tree?"

Something in her brain clicked. Like one of the cogwheels fell into place, and now the gears of her head were turning rapidly.

"The Mother Tree," Amaranta breathed. "You bastard! The mother tree!"

Dianthe laughed, but this only angered Amaranta further. This tree was the one link she had to her past. It had taught her everything about Blommarians, about who she was. It had, in effect, been her mother, like it was the mother of the Forbidden Forest.

Amaranta let out a howl of rage and struggled against her bonds. The tree slackened a little, but she was still unable to claw at the golden-haired beauty like she wanted to.

"It's no use, Amaranta," Dianthe smirked. "Your emotions are too muddled. Your mixture of righteous anger, sorrow, and fear are nothing compared to my pure hatred. Now, I was contemplating how to kill you, after all, I have waited so many years for my revenge, and I have decided, why not have you die for the very reason that I hate you?"

She flicked her wand at the dead body, and it began to move out of the trunk. It opened its eyes to reveal lifeless, blank orbs. The naked body moved slowly towards her.

Amaranta had never felt so disgusted in her life. Dianthe had turned Jake into an Inferius. He was going to kill her. The man she had loved — no, thought she loved — was going to kill her, and she could do nothing about it. Through tear-stained eyes, Amaranta looked at the tip of the blade that Dianthe had conjured for him. It was drawing steadily closer.

"_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" _

A burst of yellow light hit the side of the Jake Inferius and sent him reeling over the edge of the branch and cascading down through the leaves. Amaranta flung her head around to see Draco, wand out, and hovering on a broomstick. She had never felt happier in her life. Good thing too, because the tree holding her went limp, and fell over like a dead log.

Dianthe sighed lazily as she watched the Jake Inferius get scratched and broken by the branches below. "I'd rather you not damage my future husband," Dianthe said to Draco. "It'll take even longer for me to bring him to life if I have to regrow bones for him."

Draco ignored her comment and flew straight towards Amaranta.

"Are you alright, Amaranta?" he said frantically, cradling her face in his hands. "Are you hurt anywhere? She didn't touch you at all, did she?"

Amaranta didn't answer his questions, only smiled and placed a hand around his fingers. She was so glad to see him. She thought she was going to die. It would have been such a shame to die, and not see him one last time. The thought reminded her that she had been stabbed in the stomach, not too long ago. She looked down and lifted her shirt, but there was no sign of a wound. Blood stained her clothes, but there wasn't even a scar. Dianthe must have healed her. It would have been bad if she died too early she supposed.

While the two lovebirds were gazing into each others eyes, Dianthe made quick work of levitating her Inferius back onto the branch, and straightening his now crooked back forcefully. She had not calculated Draco coming to Amaranta's rescue. She figured the girl would be dead by then. Oh well. She could kill him too, she supposed. After all, if he died before Amaranta, she was sure the other Blommarian would be devastated in her last few moments alive.

However, Dianthe calculated as she watched her two enemies bask in each other's presence, now that Amaranta is free, she will be able to fight back. I can only hope on her hesitation with Jake to kill her. I'll need to take care of Draco myself.

Without warning, Dianthe flicked her wrist, and the wood beneath Draco became like quick sand, and his feet slowly sunk through. The couple broke out of their dreamy reunion and were now frantic.

"I don't think so," Amaranta growled and Draco then rose back to the surface of the branch.

Dianthe frowned. Draco's presence was giving Amaranta hope, and clearing her feelings. She needed to muck up Amaranta's mind so that she would be unable to fight back probably. Time to late out the guilt.

"So, who will you choose, Amaranta?" Dianthe's angelic voice was cold and stingy. "The old fling or the new fling? Jake requires a Blommarian heart to live, but it doesn't have to be yours. You could kill me and use my heart to bring your old boyfriend back to life, but I'm sure Dracy-poo wouldn't like that very much."

Amaranta frowned, but Dianthe knew that somewhere, deep in the back of her mind, she was seriously considering it.

"You could have Jake back, you know," Dianthe smiled, glancing at her Inferius. "It could be _you_ who lived with him forever. If you are going to steal a boy from me, you should at least keep him."

"But I —" Amaranta began.

"Oh, but you think you're going to live with Dracy-poo forever?" Dianthe laughed. "And you thought that _you _knew more about Blommarians? A Blommarian and Wizard couple has never been formed before. We are just too different. We are two separate creatures, meant to marry within our own species. Sure, we may be as much human as any other anthropomorphic creatures, but our hearts are that of a plant. We cannot understand each other.

"Of course, you're a goody-two-shoes, and will believe that love can conquer anything, but stop first, and use that dusty old brain of yours. The Heart Flower doesn't cause one to be immortal. No, it has an enzyme in it that triggers a reaction within the body, causing it to stop growing. For us, we stop growing around the age of six, but for a human, it is the moment they eat that fruit. So, Amaranta, you plan on living with Draco for the rest of your life, but how do you think he'll feel as he grows older, wrinkled, and starts decaying, while you remain as beautiful and young as you are now? Even after he dies of old age, you will continue to live on forever, and then you both will suffer, wondering why you even bothered to start this silly thing you two call a relationship. What's the point in developing a deep bond with someone, if they'll just die ahead of you. The one who will suffer is not Draco, but you who will be left alone."

Dianthe eyed Amaranta's reaction. Thought out her whole speech, the young Blommarian grew steadily calmer and more solemn. She was understanding Dianthe's point of view.

"Of course, it would be so nice if you and your partner could live on together forever, wouldn't it? With Jake, as soon as he's revived, he will live on forever as well. You could be together until the end of Time."

"But of course, you're not just going to let Amaranta feed your heart to him, will you?" said Draco coldly. "It doesn't matter that she's not human! I don't care! I still love her!"

"But does she love you?" Dianthe smiled wryly. "When has Amaranta every returned one of your endearments, or ever treated you as more than a friend? She may not even love you for that. You were the only person who didn't treat her like slime, so of course she'd become attached to you, but her heart lies somewhere else, doesn't it, Amaranta? Your heart lies with Jake, here." She caressed the Inferius' face. "You did die for him, after all. I'm sure you'd still be willing to do so."

Draco closed his mouth and looked at Amaranta. She had a blank look on her face, but her eyebrows were furrowed. She had remained completely silent this whole time.

"You were unable to save Jake then, but you could save him now," Dianthe continued with a smile. "He could live again, if you wished. Isn't it sad, that his bright life was ended so abruptly by your simple mistake. It is your fault, after all, that he is dead right now. You were completely aware of my feelings. You knew how I would react to this. You wanted to destroy our friendship. You wanted to keep Jake all to yourself. You were selfish then, as you are now. Jake could live again. He could be happy, and even be close to immortal if you would just die for him. You've lived long enough, haven't you? And you killed him, so the least you could do was give your life in exchange for his. He will thank you for it. Will you be so selfish as to not give your heart to Jake, which he so desires?"

It was then that Draco knew where Dianthe was getting at. She was brainwashing Amaranta into believing that it was her duty to die for the Inferius. And from the look on Amaranta's face, she was believing it.

"No!" he shouted, not really knowing what to say, just knowing that he wanted to stop the hypnotic lull of Dianthe's voice. "It's not your fault, Amaranta! It's not your fault that this chick went psycho and flipped out over a bit of jealousy! She just couldn't handle not getting one guy, when she was so able to get the rest!"

Dianthe glared at Draco. He had said all of that out of spite, but maybe he had been right.

"Bringing Jake back now, won't make him happy," Draco continued. "He'll be waking up to an unknown world, with you dead! How do you think he'll feel about that?"

A spark of hope glittered in Amaranta's eyes. It disgusted Dianthe.

"He'll be glad that Amaranta died for him!" Dianthe spat. "It's her fault he died, after all. She wasn't able to protect him —!"

"Yeah, form _you_!" Draco snapped back. "You seem to be leaving out the teensy little fact that it was _you_ who flipped out and killed everyone! You were just jealous of Amaranta! But of course, she is thousands of times prettier than you!"

"You little urchin!" Dianthe roared in fury. "It's not my fault! I loved him! And she — she —" The blonde pointed an accusing finger at the still silent Amaranta "—she stole him form me! She knew, oh yes, she knew, I told her, I told her that I loved him, and oh, no, she just had to steal him from me! She hated me! She was envious of my perfection. She just wanted to take something from me! And she didn't even love him! She's a thieving, dirty, little —"

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" Draco warned in an intense voice, wand pointed daringly at Dianthe.

"What? Or you'll kill me?" Dianthe laughed. "Go ahead and try —"

"YOU'RE WRONG!" Dianthe's maniacal smile dropped from her face as both stared at Amaranta, who had made the sudden outburst.

"What?" Dianthe asked stupidly.

"You're wrong, I did love him," Amaranta said, a determined look on her face. "But not like that. I loved him like a brother, and I was too foolish back then, to discern it from the true love between a man and a woman. I will admit, part of me was jealous that you were so pretty, and it did boost my ego that I could get a guy you couldn't. However, I didn't stab him through the chest! You're the one who flipped out and killed everyone!

Blood was rushing towards Amaranta's cheeks as she continued. Her talk was becoming more and more passionate. She felt like she was on the brink of a new discovery. Like she was about to find the cure to cancer or global warming.

"And it's because Jake died like that that I don't want him to come back to life! He has eternal peace now, so why would I bring him back into this cruel world? He wouldn't be happy knowing that he took someone's life, even if it was yours! Jake hated lying and stealing, so there's no way he'd be happy with someone else's life.

"And Even if Draco were to die before me, I wouldn't care! I'd kill myself to be with him, because…because I love him!"

It was then, that Amaranta made the discovery, she found the cure. It had seemed so simple, and so funny, that she laughed out loud, clutching her sides. Draco stared at her in bewilderment, a happy flush across his face, and Dianthe looked positively appalled.

Why hadn't she noticed it before? It all seemed so simple to her now. She had been making everything so complicated for herself with the whole betrayal and guilt, but it all seemed so simple now. So simple she felt retarded for not realizing it sooner. Of course she loved Draco, _because_ he was the only one who didn't treat her like slime. He saw her in her worst possible moments and still wanted to be with her forever. And she wanted to be with him too. And sure, they couldn't live in this world together, but who the hell would want to live here forever anyway? She could with for eternity in heaven. She would see Jake there as well, and hand him a high-five, and she would tell him the truth, straight to his face, because he liked the truth, and wouldn't be please if she had lied to him. The thought of it all left her exhilarated.

In fact, Amaranta was still so jazzed up about her latest epiphany that she ran over to where Draco gaped at her and pulled his face towards her in a kiss. The young Malfoy just stared at her in wander, although he was very happy that Amaranta realized she loved him back, though not so happy as to the place and time of her realization. Sitting in a giant tree with a psychotic babe and her pet zombie about to kill you, while who knows what was going on down below at Hogwarts occurred, was not exactly the setting for a romantic climax.

"So you see," Amaranta breathed heavily once she broke her lips away from Draco's, turning to face Dianthe, "I can't let you continue what you are doing, and I can't let you live either, because you're going to try and destroy my source of happiness."

Dianthe closed her open mouth and frowned dangerously. "So you intend to fight me? Fine! It would be boring if you died so easily anyway!"

Dianthe pointed her wand at Amaranta, but Draco had already yelled out _"Protego!"_ A glowing blue shield reflected whatever curse Dianthe had thrown at Amaranta and it hit one of the spindly twigs, shattering it on contact.

Still smiling, Amaranta waved her hand, and one of the thinner branches, snatched Dianthe's wand out of her hand and snapped it in two. Little golden sparks fizzled out, but then died away.

"Uh-un," Amaranta shook her finger, like a mother scolding a child. "We're going to do battle like the Blommarians were are! No magic getting in our way!"

"You're going to regret this!" Dianthe smiled evilly. "I don't need that stupid wand! I am so powerful, that I can do wandless magic! Voldemort himself couldn't kill me without my wand! As long as I believe you won't kill me, you can't!"

"But you don't seriously believe I can't kill you," Amaranta countered. "You know that I'm going to kill you! That was the whole reason you even bothered on trying to get your revenge on me. You wanted to die, and you wanted me to kill you. You know this to be true!"

"That's preposterous!" Dianthe snorted. "It is _I _that shall kill _you_ not the other way around!"

Dianthe waved her hands and the whole ground, or rather, the tree, shook. Wood from all corners of the tree, shot daggers straight for Amaranta, Draco lifted his wand, about to perform a Protection spell, but Dianthe glared at him. "Oh no, you don't," she growled, ad suddenly the Jake Inferius tackled Draco onto his back, wrestling the wand from his hand. "No annoying interruptions. I'm going to kill her this time, once and for all!"

However, Draco had nothing to worry about. The long, sharp, arms of wood stopped about a meter away from Amaranta, as if she had some glass bubble around her. The branches then turned and instead, shot their sharp, pointed edges at Dianthe. The girl glared at the branches confidently, but they only slowed down. Realizing, in the nick of time, that Amaranta's will was going to hold out against hers, she dodged towards the right, right off the edge of the branch.

Amaranta jumped after her, confident that she could mold the tree to catch her. Dianthe must have thought so as well, because she looked completely cal as she fell, face first, through the foliage. As she had expected, Dianthe was cushioned by a lovely bed of leaves, and Amaranta landed safely onto one of the muscular arms of the tree, not too far off.

A battle between Blommarians is a strangely bloodless one. They spent the first half hour simply tossing back pieces of wood at each other. Each time the knobby fingers of the tree would get close, they'd suddenly veer off towards the other Blommarian, simply to be rebounded back.

Dianthe was getting sick of this. She was getting annoyed. Amaranta was supposed to be weaker than her! Even with her wandless magic, and her Blommarian powers, her opponent was still blocking all of her attacks without even the aid of her wand! Was her sudden love for Draco as strong as her hate for the girl?

Of course not, Dianthe mused. I have thrown away all my other emotions, so that I could only feel hatred and malice. There's no way that Amaranta, with her entire array of emotions can defeat me, who can only feel a single emotion.

She smirked as an idea struck her. Maybe she could use her other emotions. After all, there was a certain tree that Amaranta knew she couldn't control, no matter how strong her love was.

Grinning broadly, Dianthe leapt down even closer to the ground, her gorgeous golden hair whipping behind her like a tail. Amaranta jumped after her, a Dianthe knew she would.

Just before hitting the ground, Dianthe grew little white wings along her ankles, from her wandless magic, and flew lithely along the ground, dodging the tall, dark trees of the Forbidden Forest.

Dianthe didn't know how Amaranta spared herself the terrors of meeting solid ground at high speeds, but when she stopped and turned around, she found Amaranta running after her. Amaranta's smiled dropped slightly when she realized where they were, but then it picked up its brightness again.

"Good, she said, looking at the Whomping Willow, "now I can kill all of you."

Dianthe smiled, not even noticing the twig that lodged into the knot at the base of the tree that caused it to remain calm. Waving her arms a if she were swimming, the Whomping Willow bent to its master's will. As if she were controlling water instead of a tree, the arms of the tree extended towards Amaranta, who leapt out of the way, and pounded into the ground, creating a wide crater. Dirt trickled off the fists of the Whomping Willow as it raised its branches, poised for another attack.

Amaranta ran around, dodging the constant barrages of the tree's mighty fists. She never slackened her pace, and the gears of her head were spinning so fast now, that she feared the mechanism that was her brain would overheat and crash. She had to think of a way to fight her off. She couldn't control the Whomping Willow and, as Amaranta noticed, it was the only source of vegetation for miles. The Mother Tree had probably sucked up all the nutrition from the earth to create Jake's lifeless body.

Amaranta's eyes flashed to the black rose that sat comfortably in Dianthe's breast pocket, the one she had carried around with her everywhere, and probably used to stab Amaranta in the chest. She had a plant which she carried around too…

_Mr. Bamboo!_ Amaranta nearly stopped dead in her tracks with the realization. It was still up in her dorm room, hopefully not wilting away. She had touched her plant since she'd walked up the Astronomy Tower steps to find her adoptive father falling out of the window, dead, over six months ago. It was her only hope right now.

Just barely dodging the Whomping Willow's next attack, Amaranta cried out to her bamboo plant with as much feeling as she could. Her plant was so far away, and probably not even still alive. She imagined the bamboo sitting on her nightstand in the Slytherin dungeons suddenly spring to life, its long stalks grow and snake into the ground, coming towards them through the ground.

Hurry! She thought, her sides were burning with every breath. Dianthe was getting impatient and the Whomping Willow's attacks were becoming fiercer and more frequent. She couldn't run forever.

But then she felt it, the familiar sense of hope and warmth she always got from her favorite plant. Her bamboo plant was near now, underneath them in he ground, awaiting her orders. Amaranta readied herself, she would need a quick, smooth motion to do this. The element of surprise was essential, otherwise Dianthe would bend the bamboo plant to her will.

Stopping suddenly, Amaranta looked straight at Dianthe. "KILL!"

Dianthe had about a nanosecond to react before about five separate stalks of bamboo shot straight through her body, one in each of her legs, another in her side, one in her right shoulder, and the other straight through her chest. Crimson blood gushed out from her body and painted her body its beautiful color. The Whomping Willow stopped only a foot away from the back of Amaranta's head, and recoiled back to its normal size.

Amaranta was breathing like there was never enough air in the world. Shakily, she walked towards Dianthe, who was only still standing because the bamboo held her up. She looked at Amaranta, her face contorted in the midst of probably about to holler out in pain, but something stopped her, however her eyes showed more than her face ever could. Amaranta nearly fell over; she had never felt such extreme malevolence before, and all of it was directed at her.

But then the eyes as her soul, what little of it, though it was, was beginning to part from her, towards its reserved spot in hell for committing a moral crime. But just before she died, her body was enveloped in a green glow, as was the Whomping Willow. But as soon as it came the glow died down, however Dianthe's eyes were sparkling their beautiful emerald once again, but this time they weren't filled with hatred, it was something else. Maybe the tears were the reason Amaranta couldn't discern what emotion Dianthe felt at that moment.

"Ama…ran…" she choked out, her voice strained.

"Yes?" Amaranta whispered. The world felt quiet and empty all of a sudden.

"I'm sorry," she smiled weakly, a fresh stroke of blood dripping down her chin.

"Yeah, me too," Amaranta choked out and realized that she had been crying. She was no longer talking to the mass of evil that possessed her friend's body, but the emotions she had cast off, the friend that she knew, the week, easily-frightened, naïve and innocent Dianthe that she had treated like a little sister. "We were the best of friends, weren't we?"

Dianthe's smile widened, but she was still crying. Amaranta had to admit, Dianthe really was a perfect creature, so pretty.

Their little sob fest was interrupted by a terrible scream, coming from underneath the now normal willow tree. Both girls turned their heads to look, then looked back at each other. Using what little strength she had left, Dianthe grabbed Amaranta's hand and said, "Take my heart…he needs…your help…"

Amaranta felt a new rush of tears burn her eyes. There was no way she could refuse a request like that; it would dishonor the sacrifice she was trying to make. "Ok," she sobbed. "I'll see to it, that you get a proper burial, I know that you wouldn't want to be cremated."

But Dianthe was unable to respond, for she closed her eyes and breathed no more.

Draco came up to find Amaranta, elbow deep in blood, holding a large, golden fruit. She looked at him with tear-stained, beautiful eyes, her lower lip trembling. Maybe now wasn't a good time to tell her that he had burned the Inferius to d — well, nonexistence.

"Amaranta," his voice broke the trance.

"We have to save him," Amaranta said like she had just woken up from a nightmare. She got up, and ran towards the opening at the base of the still willow tree's roots, carrying the fruit, her hands still dripping blood.

Draco had no idea who she meant, but followed her down the steps and into the Shrieking Shack. He was horrified at the scene he found, Harry, Ron, and Hermoine were leaning over Snape's quivering body. For a second, Amaranta remained rooted to her spot. This was the man who had killed her Albus…But she quickly pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

"No!" Amaranta shrieked and dove towards the old Potions Master. "Don't die on me, you idiot!"

Harry and the others stared at them in horror and shock. Harry was holding a vial full of some silver vapor.

Frantic, Amaranta held the fruit above Snape's mouth, squeezing its golden juices down, however, some of the blood one her hands dropped into his mouth as well. "Swallow it! Now!"

Snape made the motion to swallow, with a sickening gulp. Amaranta didn't feel that that was enough. She tore little bits from the fruit and shoved it down the professor's mouth.

"Stop that!" Draco sounded frightened. "Do you want to choke him?"

"I don't care as long as it gets into his stomach!" Amaranta shouted back at him, her eyes wide in her frenzy.

"Stop…it…egh," Snape's voice was raspy and muffled by the fruit in his mouth. "You…fool…" He swallowed the pieces of fruit in his mouth.

More tears fell down Amaranta's face and she looked like she wanted to collapse with the relief she felt.

"Oh, thank goodness," Hermoine breathed.

"How do you feel?" Draco asked, slightly shaken.

"How do…you think...I feel?" Snape still managed to snap.

Amaranta managed a slight giggle, but tears were still streaming down her cheeks. Suddenly, a cold voice reverberated through the walls. "You have fought valiantly," said Voldemort's voice. "Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery. Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is wasted.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately. You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Ron and Hermoine shook their heads, but Draco and Amaranta looked curiously at Harry. They had no idea that an all-out war had been going on while they were fighting Dianthe.

"Don't listen to him," said Ron.

"It'll be alright," said Hermoine wildly. "Let's — let's get back to the castle, if he's gone to the forest, we'll need to think of a new plan —"

"Harry," Snape's quiet voice seemed to ring out.

"Yes, sir?" Harry answered automatically, looking at the frail man lying on the ground.

"Make sure…she sees it too," he said, looking at Amaranta.

Harry nodded.

"What about you?" Amaranta asked. "We can't just leave you here!"

"Yes, you can," Snape ordered, his old snap coming back. "And you'll do so! The Dark Lord…thinks I'm dead…no one will come here…"

Amaranta didn't look pleased with that answer, but before she could say anything, Draco pulled her up by the arm.

"Do as he says, Amaranta," Draco said, his once wild voice now calm. "Soon, he'll be able to heal himself, and he'll be as good as new," he looked at Snape," but it's probably best that you remain here, even if you are able to walk. You won't be accepted on either side, now."

Snape nodded curtly.

"Come on," Hermoine said to all of them, heading towards the door. "We can't dawdle here. Let's go."

Amaranta gave one last glance at the man she had hated, maybe she still hated him, and then let Draco drag her out of the Shrieking Shack.


	28. Healing With Amaranta

**A/N: **THE LAST CHAPTER! Yes, TFNF is now complete! Enjoy!

**Healing With Amaranta**

Amaranta sat on the floor, watching Harry lay on it. She had stopped crying, probably because she ran out of tears, or because there was nothing to cry about. She opened her mouth, thought better of it, closed it, opened it, then closed it again. She did this for some time until Harry thought she resembled a fish out of water. After all, what were you supposed to say to a person _had_ to die?

Well, everyone died eventually, Harry thought to himself. Even Amaranta died a couple of times. But the difference was: he might not come back.

His heart pounded valiantly in his chest, struggling to keep him alive. But it would have to stop soon. How would it feel? He wondered as terror gripped him. Would dying hurt? If he could only have died when he had left number four, Privet Drive, with Hedwig, or if he could have launched himself in front of a wand to save somebody he loved…He envied his parents' deaths now. This cold-blooded walk to his own destruction would require a different kind of bravery.

As Harry slowly sat up, he had never been so aware of his living body. How come he had never appreciated it before? Soon, it would all be gone…or at least he would be gone from it.

Dumbledore's betrayal didn't bother him. He realized that there had always been a bigger plan, he was just too foolish to see it. He never knew that destroying the Horcruxes numbered his life.

Amaranta seemed a long way off, in a far-distant country. He thought of Ron and Hermoine. There would be no goodbyes, no farewells, no explanations. Any time they spent trying to stop him would only waste precious time.

Amaranta only watched him as he stood up and put on his Invisibility Cloak. She didn't say anything, just watched him with understanding eyes. There was no word of comfort she could offer him. No, "Hey, it'll be over before you know it!" or "At least you'll be remembered!" Harry was about to make the ultimate sacrifice, just as Dianthe had done, not to save one person, but the world. Any words would only seem to sully the importance of what he was about to do.

He seemed to float along in a dream, but Harry felt so aware of every step he took through Hogwarts Castle.

* * *

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

Voldemort's voice echoed through the grounds, amplified by his magic.

Slowly, the survivors began to fill the entrance, and soon all of the survivors came out to see Hagrid holding their dead hero, and Voldemort standing there, Nagini wrapped around his shoulders, triumphantly with his Death Eaters.

"No!" the screams were terrible. "No! Harry! HARRY!"

"Silence!" Voldemort ordered. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs."

Hagrid solemnly lowered Harry onto the hard ground.

"You see?" Voldemort said. "Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"And yet he beat you," Amaranta's voice was calm, almost cheerful as she stepped forward.

"Ah, Amaranta," Voldemort didn't show his anger at being interrupted. "I see that you finished Dianthe off," he eyed the blood that crusted her arms. "Good, now you can give me your Heart Fruit."

"I'm flattered, Moldy Wart," Amaranta held her hand to her cheek in mock embarrassment. "But I'm afraid my heart belongs to another."

"Do not disrespect me, _girl!"_ Voldemort shouted testily, wand out.

Amaranta only laughed. Draco broke through the crowd, and was now behind her, obvious worry etched onto his face. His silver eyes connected with those of his mother's and there was a spark of hope.

Suddenly Amaranta's laughter stopped, and her face was wrinkled in rage. "WHY THE HELL SHOULD I RESPECT YOU?!" At that moment, there was a large earthquake, partly due to a rush of giants, and partly due to the Weeping Willow's roots growing into the size of busses and thrashing about at the Death Eaters. It was at that moment that everyone had their wands out, and battle ensued.

Curses and jinxes flew everywhere, so that the ground was lit like a rainbow. It soon died down to two duels, everyone lined around, watching: Voldemort facing his McGonagall, Kingsley, and Amaranta, who still controlled her tree roots, since Draco still had her wand and the idea hadn't ever occurred to him to give it back, not that he could anymore, and Bellatrix Lestrange dueling Hermoine, Ginny, and Luna.

A Killing Curse nearly missed Ginny by a few inches, and it wasn't until then that people heard the "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" screamed by Mrs. Weasley, who flung off her cloak and ran towards her.

Bellatrix laughed.

"OUT OF MY WAY!" shouted Mrs. Weasley, pushing past the three girls, and with a swipe of her wand, began to duel Bellatrix with a power unseen in the Weasley mother.

"You — will — never — touch — our — children — again!" screamed Mrs. Weasley.

Molly's curse soared straight through Bellatrix's open arms and hit her square in the chest, just above her heart. Her smile froze and her eyes bulged in her head.

Voldemort screamed in fury at the fall of his most devoted follower, and pointed his wand at Molly Weasley.

"_Protego!" _shouted Harry, and the Shield Charm expanded in between him and Mrs. Weasley. Voldemort wheeled around for the source of the noise, and Harry through of his Invisibility Cloak.

"Harry!" the shouts and cheers echoed throughout the area. "He's alive!" Silence fell just as it had been broken, and the crowd watched as Harry and Voldemort circled each other, in step.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

"Potter doesn't mean that," Voldemort hissed. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," said Harry simply. "There are no more Horcruxes, it's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives…"

"You think it will be you, don't you, boy," Voldemort jeered, "the boy who survived by accident and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to protect me?" asked Harry. "Accident, when I decided to fight in the graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again!"

"_Accidents!"_ Voldemort screamed, but did not strike, he still paced with Harry in a perfect circle.

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight," Harry's eyes twinkled much like Dumbledore's did. "You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people —"

"But you didn't!"

"— I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

"_You dare —"_

"Yes, I dare," said Harry. I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things you don't. Want to hear some before you make another big mistake?"

"Is it love again?" Voldemort jeered. "Dumbledore's favorite solution, _love,_ which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him from falling from the tower and breaking like old waxwork? _Love_, which did not prevent me from stepping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter — and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you doing now when I strike?"

"That wand still isn't working for you because you murdered — or at least tried, since Snape is still alive, funny how all the people you kill seem to come back to life — the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore.

"He killed —"

"Aren't you listening? _Snape never beat Dumbledore!_ Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die, undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wand's power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand," Voldemort shouted. "I stole the wand from its master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! It's power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you? Possessing the wand isn't enough. Holding it, using it, doesn't really make it yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? 'The wand chooses the wizard…' The Elder Wand recognized new master before Dumbledore died, someone who had never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never even realizing what he had done…The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy."

Pure shock showed in Voldemort's face for a moment before it was gone. "But what does it matter? Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone…and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…"

"But you're too late," Harry said, still circling. "I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took his wand from him." Harry remembered the fight in the Malfoy manner, when he had fought with Draco, who was being Imperiused by Bellatrix, and stole his wand. Of course, he gave it back, once the fight was over. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

The golden glow of the sun reaching over the horizon illuminated Voldemort's face, and Harrry heard the cold voice just as he raised his wand.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The bang was like a cannon blast as green met red, and its sound echoed throughout all of Hogwarts Castle.

* * *

**Nineteen Years Later

* * *

**

A little bleach-blonde head sneaked a look around a pillar, watching a little redheaded girl talk animatedly with her parents.

"You know, if you keep standing there, staring at little girls like some stalker, you're going to draw attention," Snape's voice drawled.

Young Scorpio flicked around in horror, face flushed. "D-Don't tell Dad!" he shouted before he even realized what he was saying.

"I had no intentions of doing so, but I'm sure your mother would think otherwise," Snape leered. He always had fun taunting the little boy.

"Oh, Severus, stop trying to crush the little boy's dreams," Amaranta's sweet voice floated in from behind Scorpio, who flicked around again. "It's fine if you like Rose, dear, your father won't be disappointed in you for like Hermoine and Ron's daughter. He doesn't hate Muggle-borns as much as he puts on."

Scorpio suddenly became very interested in his feet.

"Now, come on," Amaranta smiled brightly at her son. "You want to say hi to them, don't you? You haven't seen them since New Years, even if you're going to be spending the new term together."

"Ok, Mum," Scorpio blushed, and refused his mother's hand when she offered it, stating that he wasn't a little kid anymore. Amaranta just smiled sweetly at him. She knew how much he wanted to be like his father.

"Oi, Amaranta, is that you?" a deep, yet childish voice drew the dirty-blonde's attention.

The Blommarian turned around. "Oh, Professor Longbottom..."

"Oh, you know me, just call me Neville," the Herbology teacher blushed.

"Harry, Ginny, it's been a while, too long, Ron, Hermoine, it's so good to see you two again!" Amaranta beamed at them.

"You look, that's good," Ginny said with a smile.

"Where's your flashy husband?" Harry asked, though not with malice, he and Draco had formed a treaty a long time ago, although it didn't mean he couldn't be the competitive neighbor he was.

"He had some urgent business with Ministry to attend to this morning, but he'll be over as soon as he can. Oh, Young Lily, nice to see you."

Said girl looked up at the smiling Amaranta shyly. "Hello, Mrs. Malfoy."

"And Albus and James, I hope you two are getting along?"

"Smashingly," chuckled James, though Albus looked a little awkward.

"Oh, Scorpio, why don't you say hello?" Amaranta patted the green-eyed boy hiding behind her. "I'm sure Rose is eager to see you."

The red-headed girl blushed a little, as did Scorpio, but he took a deep breath and stood out in the open. "Yo."

"Hi...long time no see."

Scorpio held his nose up, trying his best to look cool, thinking of his father. After all, if his father could win a looker like his mum, then sure he could get Rose...

"Oh, he's just shy," Amaranta laughed. "Severus spoils him. He's like a doting grandmother."

"I'd prefer to be called his God-father, as if my appropriate title," Snape's drawling voice grumbled from behind.

Everyone laughed, with the exclusion of Snape, of course.

"So, Amaranta, are you still going to be running that flower shop in Hogsmeade?" Neville asked anxiously.

"Of course, I would live there if I could, just to be close to my baby," Scorpio gave a grunt, "but Draco simply insists that I live in some huge mansion. He doesn't like the idea of me living in a flat above the shop. But I enjoy working there, so we came to the compromise that I live in the mansion with him, but Apparate to work everyday. It's fine, though."

"Ah, I see," Neville looked a bit disappointed. "Well, I'll stop by to pick up some items...f-for the class...every now and then..."

"Like hell you will!" Draco Malfoy pulled his wife by the waist towards him, hugging her from behind. "She's mine, Longbottom, go get your own!"

"Draco!" Amaranta exclaimed, blushing bright red. "When did you get here? And mind the belly, you don't want to damage Dianthe, do you?"

"Just now," Draco answered suavely, but never kept his silver eyes off of the sweating Longbottom. "And I find the meager Herbology Professor trying to hit on my woman?!"

"Draco, please," Amaranta sighed, but smiled none the less. "If the infamous Draco Malfoy has to worry about his _wife_ getting snatched away, then he must be losing his touch."

"I don't like to share," Draco said seriously as he turned Amaranta around to face him, then he smiled mischievously. "Of course, I could always use a proof of your eternal love."

"Draco, we're at the station -" but he cut her off, already deeply kissing her.

A chorus of "Ew"s erupted among the children, while the parents shook their head in shame.

"Please, Draco, we're in public," Ginny sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Must they always flaunt their passionate relationship in front of us?" Ron grumbled.

"Hey, just because you don't have what it takes to please a woman, doesn't mean it's my fault, Weasley," Draco retorted, finally releasing Amaranta for air.

"You don't have three children," Harry snorted. "That takes a lot out of a man."

"Excuse me?" Ginny raised an eyebrow. "I didn't see you going into labor."

"Well, we didn't know how the child would turn out, what with me being a Blommarian and all," Amaranta came to Draco's defense. "We didn't know if we should plant anything or not...So far he appears to be perfectly normal, but who knows what could happen?"

"It's fine, Amaranta, we understand," Hermoine patted her shoulder. "I'm sure Scorpio will be fine, and your new baby, too."

"Thanks, Hermoine," Amaranta smiled.

"Oh, hey, guys, it's nearly eleven," Harry said, checking his watch. "You guys better get on the train."

"Ok," the kids all chimed in monotone.

"Goodbye Rose, Hugo," Ron and Hermoine kissed their children goodbye.

As did Ginny and Harry. Amaranta and Draco cuddled their son until his hair ws as tousled as Harry's and kissed him on the cheek before sending him off.

"It's a good thing I'm resuming my post as Potions Master, or I'd have to stay in a Mansion with you two," Snape drawled, but not with dislike, as he boarded the train as well.

The six parents watched their children board the train remembering the first time they had each boarded that train and headed towards their destiny.

The flower never faded, but it did wilt at the age of eighty three, with two children, three grandchildren, holding her husband's hand as they slipped into eternal sleep together.

* * *

**To Never Be Continued.**


End file.
